Note: This post is the result of a recent contact with a Dr. Dominik Gross who is developing an encyclopedia of dentists, dental technicians, and oral surgeons who worked during the Nazi era as either perpetrators or enablers or victims of the regime’s policies. Evidence provided by Dr. Gross has allowed me to identify the Jewish dentist in Danzig [today: Gdansk, Poland] with whom my father apprenticed after obtaining his dental license from the University of Berlin in 1930.
I was recently contacted by a Dr. Dominik Gross who is a German bioethicist and historian of medicine. (Figure 1) He is Professor and Director of the Institute of History, Theory and Ethics in Medicine at the RWTH (Rheinisch-Westfälische Technische Hochschule) Aachen, the North Rhine-Westphalia Technical University of Aachen, Germany. His research focuses on medicine under National Socialism and the professionalization of the medical and dental profession. From 2017 to 2019 he headed the national project to review the role of dentists under National Socialism.
Dr. Gross has been working on a “lexikon,” in essence an encyclopedia or dictionary, on dentists, dental technicians, and oral surgeons who worked or emerged during the time of the Third Reich as well as before 1933 or after 1945. It is titled “Lexicon of Dentists and Oral Surgeons in the ‘Third Reich’ and in Post-War Germany: Perpetrators, Followers, Members of the Opposition, Persecuted, Uninvolved Volume 1: University Teachers and Researchers.” As his publishing house describes the work it “. . . brings together ‘perpetrators, followers, members of the opposition, persecuted’ and politically ‘uninvolved,’ whereby the relationship of the individual to National Socialism is . . . a central part. Further focal points are the professional achievements as well as the personal network structures in which the individual specialist representatives were involved.”
As we speak, Dr. Gross is working on Volume 2 of his lexikon, specifically on biographies for dentists, dental technicians, and oral surgeons who had private practices or worked under the auspices of academically trained dentists.
It is worth pointing out a distinction in terminology that once existed in Germany with respect to dentists. Two German words, “zahnarzt” and “dentist” both translate into English as “dentist.” However, a German “dentist” was a job title for dentists without academic training that existed in Germany until 1952 alongside academically trained dentists. “Dentisten” (plural) were essentially dental technicians who, after successfully completing relevant training, were allowed to treat patients. In Germany, the term “dentist” is now used as a derogatory title.
As a related aside, I remarked the following in Post 31 about Hitler’s dentist, Dr. Hugo Blaschke: “Dr. Blaschke would today be called a ‘zahntechniker,’ a non-academically trained dental technician primarily responsible for producing bridges and dentures, or ‘zahnbehandler,’ dental practitioner. A ‘zahnarzt’ in today’s parlance is an academically trained dentist.” Hitler elevated Blaschkle to the status of a zahnarzt though he was not academically trained as one.
I digress. Among the biographies that will be included in Dr. Gross’s Volume 2 lexikon are ones for my father, Dr. Otto Bruck (Figure 2), and my uncle, Dr. Fedor Bruck. (Figure 3) Since some of the information about both was drawn from posts on my family history blog, Dr. Gross asked me to review his drafts. While I anticipated learning new things about my uncle’s professional life since he never told me his life’s story, I had more modest expectations regarding my father’s dental career in Germany. Still, I learned that my father had apprenticed for a Dr. Paul Herzberg in Danzig [today: Gdansk, Poland] after taking his dental examination at the University of Berlin in May 1930 and being licensed as a zahnarzt. What I was most surprised to learn was that as part of being certified prior to 1935 as a Dr. med. dent., a Doctor of Dental Medicine, he wrote a dissertation; to date, Dr. Gross has not been able to track it down nor discover the subject of my father’s dissertation.
Dr. Gross sent me a copy of the source of the information on my father’s apprenticeship to Dr. Herzberg, specifically, the “Deutsches Zahnärzte-Buch. 17. Ausgabe Des Adresskalendars der Zahnärzte Im Deutsches Reich Freistaat Danzig und Im Memelland 1932/33,” translated as “German dentist book. 17th edition of the address calendar of dentists in the German Reich Free State of Danzig and in Memelland 1932/33.” According to this address book, Dr. Herzberg’s office was located at Langer Markt 25 (Long Market 25) In Danzig, known today as Długi Targ. (Figure 4a-b)
My father’s photo albums include several taken in Danzig including one with his close friends Ilse and Gerhard Hoppe. (Figure 5) Regular readers will recall Posts 67, Parts I & II where I discussed the particularly brutal deaths of these companions. Like my father, Gerhard Hoppe was a dentist; he worked in the town south of Tiegenhof called Neuteich [today: Nowy Staw, Poland]. In the 1932/33 address book sent to me by Dr. Gross, readers will note the Hoppe surname under Neuteich. (see Figure 4b)
The only previous reference I had found that my father was a dentist in the Free City of Danzig was in a 1934 Danzig Address Book. Quoting what I wrote in Post 1: “Danzig Address Books can be accessed on-line at the following site: http://wiki-de.genealogy.net/Kategorie:Adressbuch_f%C3%BCr_Danzig. ‘Teil III’ (Part III) in the back of the directory is like our Yellow Pages, listing people by occupation. In the 1934 Danzig Address Book, there is a separate listing of dentists which includes Tiegenhof and the other towns in the Free City of Danzig. Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwor Gdanski, Poland] includes two listings, a woman by the name of Dr. Zeisemer, for which no address is provided, and a DR. HEINZ BRUCK, located at Markstrasse 8, the address corresponding exactly to my father’s dental office . . . Clearly, this is a reference to my father, although why his first name is incorrectly shown is unclear. (Figure 6) Unfortunately, no separate listing of dentists in the Danzig Address Books exists for before or after 1934 that specifically includes Tiegenhof and the towns surrounding Danzig, so it is not possible to further track my father.” Clearly, in writing the last line, I was obviously unaware of the address calendar of dentists from 1932/33 that Dr. Gross sent me.
I suspect the reason no early 1930’s Danzig residence address books include my father’s name is because he was living with his aunt, Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck, and two of her three children, Jeanne and Heinz Löwenstein, two of my father’s first cousins.
Curious whether I might uncover any information about Dr. Paul Herzberg, I turned to ancestry.com. There, I unearthed Paul’s 1925 marriage certificate to a Mathilde Marie Fleischmann, married Heineck; clearly, Mathilde was divorced or widowed when she remarried. At the time they married they were living at Langer Markt 9/10, a stone’s throw from Dr. Herzberg’s office. (Figures 7a-d)
The marriage certificate, as I suspected, established that both Paul and Mathilde were Jewish. Checking Yad Vashem, I can find neither of their names as Holocaust victims so there is a good possibility they emigrated to an unknown destination. Expectedly, Dr. Gross confirmed there is no record of Dr. Paul Herzberg in post-WWII German phone directories.
Among my father’s surviving papers are two letters of recommendation from dentists he briefly apprenticed with prior to training with Dr. Herzberg. From the 1st to the 15th of July 1930 my father worked under a Dr. Franz Schulte from Königsbrück in the German state of Saxony (Figures 8a-b), then from the 17th of July until the 16th of August he trained with a Dr. Heinrich Kruger from Allenstein, Germany [today: Olsztyn, Poland]. (Figures 9a-b) Neither of these dentists is included in Dr. Gross’s lexikon. Given the timing of the two brief stints my father served as a novitiate in 1930, and the opening of his own practice in Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwor Gdanski, Poland] in April 1932, I surmise that he worked as Dr. Herzberg’s assistant in the intervening period.
In closing because I found a picture of a Dr. Fritz Bertram and other friends of my father sailing in the Bay of Danzig (Figure 10) and knew Fritz through Danzig address books to be a zahnarzt, in Post 6 I mistakenly concluded him to be the dentist with whom my father apprenticed; I now assume he was a professional colleague and friend. With new evidence to the contrary, it seems my father apprenticed rather with Dr. Paul Herzberg when living in Danzig.
Gross, Dominik. (2022) Lexikon der Zahnärzte & Kieferchirugen im “Dritten Reich” und im Nachkriegsdeutschland: Täter, Mitläufer, Oppositionelle, Verfolgte, Unbeteiligte Band 1: Hochschullehrer und Forscher. Berlin: Hentrich & Hentrich.
NOTE: In this post I examine the history of the Mennonites in the Vistula River delta in northern Poland, and my father’s interactions with them when he was a dentist in Tiegenhof which at the time was part of the Free City of Danzig. I also discuss why the historically pacifistic Mennonites went from fleeing the Netherlands, Flanders, and modern-day northern Germany in the mid-16th century to avoid religious persecution to becoming among Hitler’s staunchest supporters four centuries later.
The Dutch and Flemish Mennonites have lived in the Żuławy Wiślane, the alluvial delta area of the Vistula River in the northern part of Poland (Figure 1), for over 400 years. They came to Poland in the 16th century as refugees fleeing religious persecution in the Netherland, Flanders, and modern-day northern Germany.
Mennonites are a branch of the Christian church, with roots in the radical wing of the 16th century Protestant Reformation. Mennonites are part of the group known as Anabaptists who took their name from Menno Simons, a Roman Catholic priest who left the Church in 1536 and became a leader within the Anabaptism movement. Anabaptism is the doctrine that baptism should only be administered to believing adults, held by a radical Protestant sect that emerged during the 1520s and 1530s.
The first Mennonites came mainly from Swiss and German roots, with many of the important martyrs of the early church coming from the area around Zurich. The Low Countries regions of Friesland (i.e., province of the Netherlands located in the country’s northern part) and Flanders (i.e., the Flemish-speaking northern portion of Belgium), as well as Eastern Frisia (i.e., a historic region in the northwest of Lower Saxony, Germany) and Holstein (i.e., the southern half of Schleswig-Holstein, the northernmost state of Germany) became the center of the Mennonites. Religious persecution in the Low Countries under Fernando Álvarez de Toledo, 3rd Duke of Alba (1507-1582) forced many Mennonites to leave in the 16th century.
Historically, Mennonites have been known as one of the peace churches due to their commitment to pacifism. The majority of the early Mennonite followers, rather than fighting, fled to neighboring states where the ruling families were tolerant of their beliefs. In the 16th century Poland was among the most tolerant kingdoms in Europe.
The Mennonites, like the Amish who separated from them in the late 1600’s, represent the strictest branches of Protestantism. The Amish are widely known for their plain dress and rejection of modern technology and conveniences. Unlike the Mennonites, they form an exclusive and tight-knit community. Mennonites generally are not culturally separatist.
Żuławy Wiślane, the region in now-northern Poland where the Mennonites settled, covers about 386 square miles or 1000 square km. Historically the area was an estuary of the Vistula (Figure 2), Poland’s longest river which empties into the Baltic Sea. The arduous process of reclaiming the land from the sea began in the 14th century. This involved building hundreds of canals, miles of dikes, and networks of pumps and locks which allowed for the removal of water and the gradual drainage of the Żuławy territory. A good deal of this work was accomplished by the Mennonites who then built thriving communities across the Vistula delta.
According to an article in Wikipedia, entitled the “Vistula delta Mennonites,” the first Anabaptist reported in the area was in 1526 in Marienburg [today: Malbork, Poland] (Figure 3), a mere 15.6 miles south of Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwor Gdanski, Poland]. The first Mennonites from the Netherlands and Flanders arrived in Danzig [today: Gdansk, Poland] in the 1530’s. (Figure 4) As Poland’s principal seaport, Danzig played an important role in the grain trade with the Low Countries.
Menno Simons, founder of the Mennonites, is reported to have visited Danzig in 1549, and by 1569 the first Mennonite Church was founded in the city. Soon about 1,000 Mennonites lived in the city. While Mennonites were allowed to freely practice their faith, the Danzig city council refused to grant them the status of citizens; this situation remained unchanged until the city itself was annexed by the Kingdom of Prussia in 1793 in the Second Partition of Poland. The Vistula delta and the Danzig suburbs had already become part of the Kingdom of Prussia in 1772 after the First Partition of Poland, at which time more than 12,000 Mennonites lived in Prussian territory.
Only men who had served in the Prussian Army were allowed to purchase land; as conscientious objectors, Mennonites were subject to special charges, limiting their economic prospects. As a result, when Russian colonization agents sought to recruit settlers for the regions recently conquered from the Ottoman Empire following the Russo-Turkish War of 1768-1774, about 6,000 Mennonites, mostly from the Vistula delta, left for Russian Ukraine. These people formed the roots of the Russian Mennonites. The first Mennonite settlement in Russia, the Chortitza Colony, was founded by these emigrees in 1789; I touched on this topic in Post 112. The Mennonites who remained in the Vistula delta, however, became more and more assimilated, with some even willing to bear arms.
I will return briefly to the story of the Mennonites in the Vistula delta but let me provide some insight to readers for why I decided to go into such depth into this Protestant religion. I wrote in Post 5 that during the time that my father lived and worked in Tiegenhof he was friends with two women who lived in the same apartment building where he also rented an apartment and had his dental practice. The captions on his pictures identified the women as “Idschi” and “Suse” (Figure 5), and it was only when I found both their names in my father’s 1932 Day Planner with their surname and birthdays that I realized they were related and that their family name was “Epp.” In 2013, I would eventually track down their niece and grandniece in Lubeck, Germany, and learn they were respectively the youngest and oldest sisters of a large Mennonite family who were originally from Żuławy. While the sisters had a passing resemblance to one another, their age difference made it difficult to determine whether they were related.
Among my father’s pictures, there are multiple images of him shown socializing with Idschi and Suse Epp. A particularly interesting sequence of photographs (Figure 6) was taken in Stutthof, then part of the Free City of Danzig [today: Sztutowo, Poland], when my father had clearly been invited to an Epp family get-together. From Idschi and Suse’s grandniece, I learned that one of their brothers was also pictured. His name was Gerhard Epp. Much more on him later.
In researching the history of the Mennonites in the Vistula delta for this Blog post, I happened upon a series of articles written by a Dr. Ben Goossen, a Harvard University professor who has written extensively about Hitler’s Mennonite supporters. I was particularly intrigued in learning why people who were traditionally pacifists would be attracted to Hitler. In an article from October 2021 entitled “Hitler’s Mennonite Voters,” Dr. Goossen explains:
“Two factors made Danzig’s Mennonites particularly susceptible to Hitler’s project. First, members saw themselves as part of a global religious denomination they viewed as vulnerable to atheist communism. Since the eighteenth century, thousands of Mennonites had emigrated from the Danzig area to Imperial Russia. Although nationalist pressure convinced Danzig’s Mennonites to abandon pacifist teachings, they retained ties to pacifist coreligionists abroad. After the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917. Mennonites in the Soviet Union faced hardships. Their relatives in Danzig welcomed Hitler’s anti-Bolshevism and his antisemitism. The Führer blamed Soviet atrocities on a fictional cabal he labeled as ‘Judeo-Bolshevism.’”
Another researcher, Alicia Good, in an article entitled “Unanswered Questions: Mennonite Participation in the Holocaust,” reinforces what Goossen tells us in this regard:
“Rempel makes the argument that the destruction of Mennonite church and community life in the Soviet Republic under Stalin was so destructive that not only did Mennonites abandon their peace theology, but they perceived Hitler’s invading forces as their liberators, thereby setting the stage for them to actively aid the Nazi agenda. Rempel describes the turbulence of the Russian Revolution: ‘Driven by fear and the predation of violent anarchists, many Mennonites in South Russia set aside their pacifist tradition and formed self-defense units to protect their homes and families against bandits and even the Red Army’ It was during this period that many Mennonites chose to leave behind their beliefs in nonviolence in order to fight a losing battle against the communists, who were perceived as a threat both because of their atheistic stance and their desire to abolish private ownership of property. Rempel infers that it was these initial violent actions which set a tragic precedent laying the foundations for the next generation of Mennonites to take up arms alongside the Nazis.”
According to Goossen, the second reason Danzig Mennonites were attracted to Nazism is that it appealed to their sense of aggrieved nationalism:
“Those who had given up pacifism and chosen not to emigrate adopted a strong German identity. They lamented Germany’s defeat in the First World War, and they reviled the 1919 Versailles Treaty, which became a nationalist punching bag. This treaty assigned guilt for World War I to Germany. It required steep reparations. And it split Danzig from Germany. The nineteen Mennonite congregations in eastern Germany, with 13,000 attendees, had once formed a united group. Versailles divided them between Germany, Poland, and the Free City (where 6,000 lived). Mennonite farmers further resented Danzig’s customs union with Poland.” (Goossen, 2021)
According to Dr. Goossen, during the 1930’s Mennonites became involved at every level of the Nazi Party in Danzig. For example, the second highest-ranking Nazi in Danzig, Otto Anders, was a Mennonite. Mennonite men joined the paramilitary Sturmabteilung (SA) and the Schutzstaffel (SS), while Mennonite women joined Nazi women’s organizations. While Mennonite men who became officers in the Nazi army typically left the church, rank-and-file members normally retained their church affiliation. Faith leaders in the church also became deeply Nazified, and according to Goossens, leaders from five of the seven Mennonite churches in the Free City of Danzig were party members.
Mennonites, who numbered only 1.5 percent of Danzig’s population, had an outsized effect in the Free City of Danzig. According to Dr. Goossen, in May 1933, Mennonites helped deliver Hitler the only country-wide majority he achieved in a free election; in the Free City of Danzig their ballots pushed the Nazis over the 50 percent threshold in the popular vote.
As Goossen further notes, “The historically pacifist Christian church disproportionately influenced Nazi rule in the Free City. During World War II, members became enmeshed in the Holocaust, staffing concentration camps, and using slave labor on their farms and in their factories. Prominent Nazis believed most Mennonites were ‘Aryan.’”
As to how Menno Simons, the founder of the Mennonites, might have felt about the alliance future generations of his followers made with Nazism, Goossen observes the following: “Four hundred years later, the Mennonites who helped to bring Nazism to Danzig were a theologically transformed group. Prior to the 1933 election, one preacher praised National Socialism to a ministerial assembly as ‘the only party which we as Mennonites can support.’ This viewpoint would have been anathema to this preacher’s own ancestors. Church historian C. Henry Smith, observing from across the Atlantic, rightly assessed that Danzig’s Mennonites strayed from their roots. ‘Menno Simons would find himself ill at ease, today, among his namesakes,’ Smith wrote, ‘were he to return to his familiar haunts around the Baltic.’ A time-travelling Menno Smith would soon be ‘in all likelihood, in a concentration camp.’”
Dr. Goossen has explained why Mennonites become Nazi collaborators. However, readers may wonder, as I did, what attracted or impressed the Nazis about Mennonites? It was certainly not the faith’s historic pacifism which the Nazis surely would not have emphasized. Turning again to Goossen, “The main strategy church officials deployed to ingratiate themselves with top Nazis involved claiming racial purity. Mennonites had supposedly kept their bloodlines ‘Aryan’ through centuries of intermarriage. German racial scientists had tested Mennonite populations in Danzig and agreed with this assessment. Faith leaders further sought to prove heritage by harvesting centuries-old data from church record books.” Simply put, the Nazis considered Mennonites to be unusually pure specimens of Aryanism.
Mennonites elevated racial status ultimately drew them into the Nazi’s orbit of crimes against humanity, as Goossen explains: “Hitler waged World War II as a race war. His soldiers conquered vast swaths of Eastern Europe to provide expanded ‘living space’ for the German people, whom the Nazis considered a ‘master race.’ The invaders and local collaborators seized property from Poles, Jews, and others. They distributed this plunder to members of the German racial elite and forced non-Germans into subservient positions. In Danzig, many Mennonites benefitted from robbery and slavery. For instance, SS officers at the Stutthof concentration camp, built in 1939, formed an entire labor commando with 500 inmates to serve a Mennonite arms manufacturer, Gerhard Epp.”
So, we come full circle to the first mention of Gerhard Epp (Figure 7), the brother of my father’s friends, the Mennonite sisters Suse and Idschi Epp. But it would not be the last as he was among the most prominent Mennonite collaborators.
Let me digress and briefly tell readers a little about the Stutthof concentration camp, located 21 miles (34 km) east of Danzig in the German-annexed Free City of Danzig. Opened in September of 1939, it was under the command of Heinrich Himmler’s SS and was at the time situated near the world’s largest Mennonite population. Stutthof was the first German concentration camp set up outside German borders in World War II, and was the last camp liberated by the Allies on the 9th of May 1945. It was originally set up as a concentration camp but was later utilized as a death camp equipped with a gas chamber and crematoria. Initially it housed Polish and Russian political prisoners, but soon became the destination for thousands of deported Jews. It is estimated that between 63,000 and 65,000 prisoners of Stutthof concentration camp and its subcamps died because of murder, starvation, epidemics, extreme labor conditions, brutal and forced evacuations, and a lack of medical attention. Some 28,000 of those who died were Jews. In total, as many as 110,000 people were deported to the camp during its existence, working under what were often brutal conditions.
Quoting again from Alicia Good as to how the Mennonites in the Żuławy region benefited from the proximity of the Stutthof concentration camp: “The Mennonite farmers and business owners in the Danzig region were not only aware of the existence of the concentration camp but they derived personal profit from its operations. Mennonite farms paid the camps to receive field laborers without payment for their labor and often for longer than the allotted 8-hour shifts to maximize profits. Mennonites who owned factories, such as Gerhard Epp (Figure 8), utilized the low-cost labor from concentration camps; Epp’s factory actually manufactured firearms for the Nazi war effort. Other Mennonite businesses profited by building and supplying the camps themselves. Since Mennonite attempts to show more sympathetic treatment of the workers was prohibited by the Nazis on the threat of the sympathizer being imprisoned in the camps, Mennonite arguments that their usage was to show mercy to the prisoners was unsustainable. Likewise, it cannot be reasonably claimed that the large Mennonite community did not know about the camps since they were actively profiting from this activity. Neither the presence of tens of thousands of people subjected to horrific conditions, nor the billowing smoke and ashes of the crematoria could have been denied by any Mennonites at Danzig or Stutthof who wanted to know the truth of what was happening in their backyard. Moreover, the presence of ethnically Mennonite names on the list of prison guards who were later convicted for their work at Stutthof demonstrates that at least some members of the Mennonite community themselves committed atrocities within the camp.”
In another article written by Dr. Ben Goossen in 2020 entitled “The Real History of the Mennonites and the Holocaust,” there is further mention of Gerhard Epp. From this article, we learn more about him through Goossen’s story of Mennonite war refugee Heinrich Hamm’s antisemitic and anti-Bolshevik involvement with Nazism. Some background about Hamm provides the framework for a further discussion of Gerhard Epp.
Heinrich Hamm was born in czarist Russia in 1894. During WWI he was a medic, though abandoned pacifism and took up arms against the communists during the Russian Revolution. Following the Bolshevik victory, Hamm lost his farm near the Ukrainian city of Zaporozhe, famous these days for the site of fighting between the Russians and the Ukrainians around Europe’s largest nuclear power plant. Following Stalin’s rise to power, Hamm moved to Dnepropetrovsk, and remained there following the Nazi invasion of 1941. However, with Germany’s reversal of fortunes on the Eastern Front, by early 1944 Hamm and his family abandoned the Ukraine and eventually settled in Stutthof, which as previously mentioned had a large and long-standing Mennonite population. Hamm and his family were among the first Mennonite refugees relocated from the Ukraine to Nazi-occupied Poland.
As Goossen notes, it was in Stutthof that Hamm met Gerhard Epp: “In Stutthof, Hamm became friendly with a prominent Mennonite businessman named Gerhard Epp. Prior to the First World War, Epp had worked in Russia, and he remained greatly interested in Mennonite coreligionists from the Soviet Union. Epp offered Hamm a job in a large machine factory he owned and operated—the same establishment that Hamm would later mention in the memo he wrote for MCC [i.e., Mennonite Central Committee] (see below), claiming he was coerced into providing cheap labor for greedy German war profiteers.” (Figures 9a-b)
Goossen later goes on to add, “Gerhard Epp served as a general contractor for camp [i.e., Stutthof], from which he leased hundreds of prisoners to produce armaments in his factory. Jews and other inmates were the true cheap labor. Hamm helped oversee their slavery and murder.”
Following the end of World War II, Mennonite leaders in Europe and North America sought to craft a narrative that emphasized how brutally and oppressively their denomination had been treated by the Nazis. The Mennonite Central Committee (MCC), the denomination’s premier aid organization of which Heinrich Hamm was an employee and spokesperson, reported in various memos to bodies like the United Nations that faith leaders were unaware of Nazi collaboration of refugees including the involvement of Heinrich Hamm. The following is drawn from a version of Hamm’s wartime experiences: “It is quite an erroneous idea to think that all Mennonites were brought to Poland to be settled on farms. I and my family came to a camp in Preussisch-Stargard in the Danzig area. Immediately representatives of various works and concerns came to fetch cheap labour. I had to work in a machine factory where I remained until the end of the war. Besides the four Mennonite families many Ukrainians, Frenchmen, and Poles worked there also. There was no difference in the way these various national groups were treated.” (Goossen 2020)
As Goossen goes on to note, “The efforts by Mennonite Central Committee to portray refugees like Heinrich Hamm as victims of Nazism were largely successful.” Declarations by the MCC officers as well as by the migrants themselves convinced agents of the United Nations that most Mennonites had not wound up in Germany of their own accord. As a result, the MCC succeeded in relocating most of their refugees under its care with United Nations assistance to places in West Germany or overseas, mostly in Canada and Paraguay.
Goossen has laboriously sifted through thousands of pages of historic documents scattered across half a dozen archives in four countries to piece together Hamm’s past and debunk his story; readers are referred to Dr. Goossen’s article for more details but suffice it to say that Hamm as an MCC employee and spokesperson knew very well how and why Mennonites had collaborated with the Nazis and how complicit they were in the murder of Jewish concentration camp detainees. As Goossen notes: “What is clear is that the Mennonite-owned factory in Stutthof was a place of terror. For hundreds of prisoners enslaved there, the factory’s Mennonite managers were responsible for much of that terror. It is also clear that after the war, Hamm tried to distance himself from this responsibility. He instead emphasized the suffering of his own family, which fled Stutthof in April 1945. As they crossed the Baltic under cover of night, a Soviet submarine torpedoed their ship. Hamm praised God for allowing the damaged vessel to make it to Denmark. The family remained in Denmark for the next eighteen months. Hamm emphasized his gratitude for the comfort he found during these lean times through worshipping with fellow Mennonite refugees and other Christians.” (Goossen 2020)
As I related in Post 5, my father’s friends, Idschi and Suse Epp, also escaped to Denmark as the Russians were approaching Tiegenhof. According to Gerhard Epp’s descendants whom I met in 2013 in Lubeck, Germany, Suse Epp died in Denmark in 1941 at the age of 71. Gerhard Epp’s daughter by his first wife who died in 1939 at the age of 44 was Rita Schuetze née Epp (Figure 10); at the time I met her in 2013 she was already suffering from severe dementia. However, Rita’s half-brother and Gerhard Epp’s stepson, Hans Joachim “Hajo” Wiebe (Figures 11-12), is twelve years younger than his sister and has a splendid memory; he shared some compelling family stories.
Of particular interest is the story Hajo Wiebe related of the role that Gerhard and Rita Epp played in helping Prussian citizens and German soldiers escape towards the end of WWII as the Russians were encircling Stutthof. Danzig to the west and Elbing [today: Elblag, Poland] to the south had already been captured by the Russians, so the only way Germans could still flee the area was to make their way across the frozen “Frisches Haff,” or Vistula Lagoon (Figure 13), to a narrow, sandy spit (Vistula Spit); here, they could be picked up by German boats cruising the Baltic Sea looking for fleeing Germans, then taken first to the Hel Peninsula and eventually to Germany. Using Gerhard’s mechanical expertise, he and Rita drove in his Mercedes all around the area south of Stutthof destroying the flood control dams previous generations of Mennonites had built and inundated the naturally marshy area to slow the advance of the Russians, allowing Germans an opportunity to take flight. However, even with the area flooded, travel across the Vistula Lagoon was fraught with danger as Russian bombers were always strafing escaping Germans who stood out against the frozen landscape. The exact date of Gerhard and Rita’s own get-away on one of the last German ships leaving from the Vistula Spit is recorded in family annals as May 6, 1945.
In closing I would merely say that thanks to the recent work of scholars like Ben Goossen revelations are finally coming to light of the role Mennonites played in the crimes of National Socialism. These crimes run counter to the common belief about this Christian denomination that they are historically pacifists. What led me to uncovering the truth was my father’s friendship with two of Gerhard Epp’s sisters and a casual encounter my father had with Gerhard prior to the war.
REFERENCES
Good, Alicia. “Unanswered Questions: Mennonite Participation in the Holocaust.”
Goossen, Ben. “How to Catch a Mennonite Nazi.” Anabaptist Historians, 29 October 2020, https://anabaptisthistorians.org/2020/10/29/how-to-catch-a-mennonite-nazi/.
Goossen, Ben. “The Real History of the Mennonites and the Holocaust.” Tablet, 16 November 2020, https://www.tabletmag.com/sections/history/articles/heinrich-hamm-mennonite-holocaust.
Goossen, Ben. “How A Nazi Death Squad Viewed Mennonites.” Anabaptist Historians, 16 January 2021, https://anabaptisthistorians.org/2021/01/16/how-a-nazi-death-squad-viewed-mennonites/
Neff, Christian and Richard D. Thiessen. “Wladyslaw IV Vasa, King of Poland (1595-1648).” Global Anabaptist Mennonite Encyclopedia Online. March 2015. Web. 11 Aug 2022. https://gameo.org/index.php?title=Wladyslaw_IV_Vasa,_King_of_Poland_(1595-1648)&oldid=140874.
“The History of Polish Mennonites.” Gdanski Trips, https://www.gdansktrips.com/the-history-of-polish-mennonites/.
Note: In this post, I discuss “stashes” of family photos I’ve uncovered, and the efforts I’ve undertaken with the help of near and distant relatives to identify people in some of those images even absent captions. In a few instances the photos are significant because they illustrate individuals renowned or notorious in history. In other cases, a good deal of sleuthing was required, including comparing the pictures of people in captioned versus uncaptioned images. On other occasions, I recognized portrayals of family members I knew growing up. And, in rare instances, I was able to determine a photographed person based on an educated guess.
The antisemitic and racist laws enacted by the Nazis short-circuited my father’s career as a dentist. Pursuant to his formal training at the University of Berlin, followed by an apprenticeship in Danzig (today: Gdansk, Poland), my father, Dr. Otto Bruck (Figure 1), opened his own dental practice in Tiegenhof in the Free City of Danzig (today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland) in April 1932; by April 1937, my father was forced to flee Tiegenhof, and by March 1938 he had left Germany altogether, clearly seeing the handwriting on the wall. As an unmarried man with few family ties, this was an option open to him. My father would never again legally practice dentistry.
My father considered the five years he spent in Tiegenhof to be the halcyon days of his life. Judging from the numerous photos of his days spent there, including those illustrating his active social life, his professional acquaintances, and recreational pursuits, I would be hard-pressed to argue otherwise.
I originally intended in this post to briefly discuss with readers the history of Polish Mennonites because Tiegenhof, the town where my father had his dental practice, was largely Mennonite when my father lived there. The Mennonites arrived in the Żuławy Wiślane region (i.e. “the Vistula fens,” plural from “żuława”), the alluvial delta area of the Vistula in the northern part of Poland, in the 17th century. They came to escape religious persecution in the Netherlands and Flanders. I have instead decided to devote the subsequent Blog post to discussing the history of Polish Mennonites, and briefly explore how the Mennonites, who are committed to pacifism, inexplicably, became strong adherents of Hitler. I intend in the following post to use photos from my father’s collection to focus on one Mennonite family, the Epp family, with whom my father was acquainted and friends with. They have a dark history related to their connection to the Nazi regime.
Getting back on track. Curious whether the office building where my father had both his dental practice and residence still existed (Figure 2), in 2013 my wife Ann Finan and I visited Nowy Dwór Gdański. We quickly oriented ourselves to the layout of the town, and promptly determined that his office and residential building no longer stands. I would later learn that the structure had been destroyed by Russian bombers when Nazi partisans shot at them from this location.
During our initial visit to Nowy Dwór Gdański, we were directed to the local museum, the Muzeum Żuławskie. The museum docent the day we visited spoke English, so I was able to communicate to her that my Jewish father had once been a dentist in the town and had taken many pictures when living there of Tiegenhof and the Żuławy Wiślane region. I offered to make the photos available, which I in fact did upon my return to the States.
In 2014, my wife Ann and I were invited to Nowy Dwór Gdański for an in-depth tour and a translated talk. Naturally, during my presentation, I used many of my father’s photos. There was a question-and-answer period following my talk, and one Polish gentleman of Jewish descent commented on how fortunate I am to have so many photographs of my father, family, and friends. I agreed. In the case of this gentleman, he remarked he has only seven family pictures, which I think is often true for descendants of Holocaust survivors. In my instance, my father’s seven albums of surviving photos, covering from the 1910’s until 1948 when my father came to America, are the reason I started researching and writing about my family.
Given the importance pictures have played in the stories I research and write about, and the development of this Blog, I thought I would highlight a few of the more interesting and historically significant pictures in my father’s collection, as well as discuss other “stashes” of photos I’ve uncovered. Obviously, it’s impossible and would be of scant interest to readers to discuss all the photos.
My father was a witness to the rise of National Socialism from the window of his dental office in Tiegenhof. On May 1, 1933, my father photographed a regiment of “SA Sturmabteilung,” literally “Storm Detachment,” known also as “Brownshirts” or “Storm Troopers,” marching down the nearby Schlosserstrasse, carrying Nazi flags, framed by the “Kreishaus” (courthouse) on one side. (Figure 3)
Again, a year later to the day, on May 1, 1934, my father documented a parade of veterans and Brownshirts following the same path down Schlosserstrasse led by members of the Stahlhelm (“Steel Helmet”), a veterans’ organization that arose after the German defeat of WWI. (Figures 4a-b) In 1934, the Stahlhelme were incorporated into the SASturmabteilung, the original paramilitary wing of the Nazi Party.
Then again, the following year, on April 5, 1935, there was another Nazi parade. On this occasion Field Marshall Hermann Göring visited and participated in the march through Tiegenhof. The day prior, on April 4, 1935, Hermann Göring had visited the Free City of Danzig to influence the upcoming April 7th parliamentary elections in favor of Nazi candidates. The visit to Tiegenhof the next day was merely an extension of this campaign to influence the Free City’s parliamentary elections. In the photos that my father took on April 5th there can be seen a banner which in German reads “Danzig ist Deutsch wenn es nationalsozialistisch ist,” translated as “Danzig is German when it is National Socialist.” (Figures 5a-b) It appears that along with everyday citizens of Tiegenhof and surrounding communities, members of the Hitler Youth, known in German as Hitlerjugend, also lined the street in large number.
Students of history know about Hermann Göring but for those who are unfamiliar with him, let me say a few words. He would evolve to become the second-highest ranking Nazi after the Führer. Unlike many of Hitler’s sycophants and lieutenants, Göring was a veteran of WWI, having been an ace fighter pilot, a recipient of the prestigious Blue Max award, and a commander of the Jagdgeschwader a fighter group that had previously been led by the renowned Red Baron, Manfred von Richthofen. Göring was drawn to Hitler for his oratorical skills and became an early member of the Nazi Party. He participated with Hitler in the failed Beer Hall Putsch of 1923, during which he was wounded in the groin. During his recovery he was regularly given morphine to which he became addicted for the remainder of his life.
Göring oversaw the creation of the Gestapo, an organization he later let Heinrich Himmler run. He was best known as the commander-in-chief of the Luftwaffe, although after the Nazi victory over France, he was made Reichsmarschall, head of all the German armed forces. He amassed great wealth for himself by stealing paintings, sculptures, jewelry, cash, and valuable artifacts not only from Jews and people whom Nazis had murdered but also by looting museums of defeated nations.
Towards the end of the war, following an awkward attempt to have Hitler appoint him head of the Third Reich and thereby drawing Hitler’s ire, he turned himself in to the Americans rather than risk being captured by the Russians. He eventually was indicted and stood trial at Nuremberg. The once obese Göring, who’d once weighed more than three hundred pounds, was a shadow of his former self at his trial. Expectedly, he was convicted on all counts, and sentenced to death by hanging. His request to be executed by firing squad was denied, but he was able to avoid the hangman’s noose by committing suicide using a potassium cyanide pill that had inexplicably been smuggled to him by an American soldier.
My uncle, Dr. Fedor Bruck, has been the subject of multiple previous posts (i.e., Post 17, Post 31, Post 41). My uncle, like my father was a dentist. He was educated at the University of Breslau (today: Wrocław, Poland) and had his dental practice in Liegnitz, Germany (today: Legnica, Poland) until around 1933 when he was forced to give it up due to the “Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service” passed by the Nazi regime on the 7th April 1933, two months after Adolf Hitler had attained power. My uncle’s life is of interest because he miraculously survived the entire war hidden in Berlin by friends and non-Jewish family members. His story has also been of interest because he counted among his friends a woman named Käthe Heusermann-Reiss, who had been his dental assistant in Liegnitz.
Following the loss of his business my uncle relocated to Berlin hoping the anonymity of the larger city would afford him the possibility to continue working under the auspices of another dentist, which it did for a time. Käthe Heusermann also moved to Berlin and opportunistically landed herself a job as a dental assistant to Hitler’s American-trained dentist, Dr. Hugo Blaschke. In this capacity, she was always present when Dr. Blaschke treated Hitler. Following the end of the war, she was interrogated by the Russians and asked to identify dental remains which had been recovered in a burn pit outside the Reichstag. The bridgework performed by Dr. Blaschke on Hitler was outmoded so Käthe was easily able to recognize Blaschke’s work and Hitler’s teeth, a fact Stalin kept hidden from the world. Following Russia’s capture of Berlin at the end of the war, my uncle who’d temporarily been hiding in Käthe’s apartment learned from her that Hitler had committed suicide. This dangerous information resulted in Käthe being imprisoned in the USSR for many years, and my uncle barely escaping the same fate. Surviving among my father’s photographs is a noteworthy picture taken in Liegnitz of my uncle and Käthe Heusermann. Though uncaptioned, I have been able to compare it to known pictures of Käthe to confirm it is her. (Figure 6)
As I have told readers in multiple earlier posts my father was an active sportsman, and an excellent amateur tennis player. Among my father’s belongings I retain multiple of the prizes he was awarded for his achievements, including many newspaper clippings documenting his results. In August 1936, my father attended an International Tennis Tournament in Zoppot, Germany (today: Sopot, Poland), located a mere 32 miles from Tiegenhof. During his attendance there, he photographed the great German tennis player, Heinrich Ernst Otto “Henner” Henkel (Figure 7), whose biggest success was his singles title at the 1937 French Championships. Interestingly, Henkel learned to play tennis at the “Rot-Weiss” Tennis Club in Berlin. My father was a member of the “Schwarz-Weiss” Tennis Club in Berlin, so perhaps my father and Henner played one another and were acquainted. Henner Henkel was killed in action during WWII on the Eastern Front at Voronezh during the Battle of Stalingrad while serving in the Wehrmacht, the German Army.
As I mentioned above, my father left Germany for good in March 1938. He was headed to stay with his sister Susanne and brother-in-law, then living in Fiesole, a small Tuscan town outside Florence, Italy. During his sojourn in Italy, before eventually joining the French Foreign Legion later in 1938, my father visited some of the tourist attractions in Italy, including the Colosseum in Rome. One of the images that my father took there has always stood out to me because of the paucity of people around what is today a very crowded and visited venue. (Figure 8)
My father’s collection of photos number in the hundreds but I’ve chosen to highlight only certain ones because they illustrate a few personages or places that may be known to readers. My father’s collection is merely one among several caches of images I was able to track down through family and acquaintances. I want to call attention to a few pictures of family members that grabbed my attention from these other hoards.
In Post 33, I explained to readers how I tracked down the grandchildren of my grandfather’s brother, Wilhelm “Willy” Bruck (1872-1952). Based on family correspondence, I knew my great-uncle Willy wound up in Barcelona after escaping Germany in the 1930’s and theorized his children and grandchildren may have continued to live there. Official vital documents I procured during a visit there convinced me otherwise, that at least his son returned to Germany after WWII. I was eventually able to track down both of my great-uncle’s grandchildren, that’s to say my second cousins Margarita and Antonio Bruck, to outside of Munich, Germany. (Figure 9) I have met both, and they’ve shared their family pictures, which again number in the hundreds.
The cache included many images of family members, but there are two pictures I was particularly thrilled to obtain copies of. My uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck (1895-1982), previously discussed, fought in WWI on the Eastern Front. (Figure 10) Among the family memorabilia I retain is a postcard he sent to his aunt Franziska Bruck on the 3rd of September 1916 coincidentally from the Ukraine announcing his promotion to Sergeant. (Figures 11a-b) The ongoing conflict between the Ukraine and Russia makes me realize how long the Ukraine has been a staging area for wars.
Regular readers may recall that my father was born in Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland), in Upper Silesia. The family hotel there, owned through three generations between roughly 1850 and the early 1920’s, was known as the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel. Among my second cousins’ photos is a rare image of the entrance to this hotel, which no longer stands. (Figure 12)
I introduced readers to two of my grandfather’s renowned sisters, my great-aunts Franziska and Elsbeth Bruck, way back in Post 15. Their surviving personal papers are archived at the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, the westernmost of the twelve boroughs of Berlin; these files have been another source of family photographs. Franziska Bruck was an eminent florist, and it is reputed that one of her clients was the last German Kaiser, Wilhelm II (1859-1941). One undated photograph taken in my great-aunt’s flower shop shows Duchess Cecilie Auguste Marie of Mecklenburg-Schwerin (1886-1954), the last Crown Princess of Germany and Prussia, who was married to Kaiser Wilhelm II’s son, Wilhelm, the German Crown Prince. (Figure 13)
My second cousins Margarita and Antonio Bruck introduced me to one of my third cousins, Andreas “Andi” Pauly, also living part-time in Munich, Germany. (Figure 14) The Pauly branch of my extended family, which originally hailed from Posen, Germany (today: Poznan, Poland) has been the subject of multiple blog posts, including Post 45 on Pauly family Holocaust victims and reflections in Post 56 by the paterfamilias, Dr. Josef Pauly (1843-1916), Andi Pauly’s great-grandfather. Josef Pauly and his wife Rosalie Pauly née Mockrauer (1844-1927) had eight daughters and one son born between 1870 and 1885; thanks to photos provided by Andi Pauly, not only was I able to obtain images of all nine children but also some of Pauly cousins I knew of by name.
Again, it is not my intention to boggle readers’ minds by showing all these photos but I want to focus on one particular picture I originally obtained from Andi Pauly that was the subject of Post 65. The photo was taken in Doorn, Netherlands on the 28th of May 1926, and shows a then-unknown Bruck family member standing amidst a group that includes the last German Kaiser, Wilhelm II, his second wife, Princess Hermine Reuss of Greiz (1887-1947), and her youngest daughter by her first marriage, Princess Henriette of Schönaich-Carolath (1918-1972), and the Royal Family’s entourage. (Figure 15) At the time I wrote Post 65, I was unable to determine who the Bruck family member was, nor whom the initials “W.B.” stood for.
Fast forward. In early 2021, I was astonished to receive an email from a Dr. Tilo Wahl, a doctor from Köpenick in Berlin, who stumbled upon my Blog and contacted me. He shared copies of the extensive collection of personal papers and photographs he had copied from the grandson of one of my esteemed ancestors, Dr. Walter Bruck (1872-1937), from Breslau, Germany (today: Wrocław, Poland) Again, this relative and my findings related to Dr. Walter Bruck have been chronicled in multiple earlier posts. The very same image discussed in the previous paragraph I had obtained from Andi Pauly was included among Dr. Bruck’s images. It was then I realized the unidentified Bruck family member standing with Kaiser Wilhelm II, his family, and his entourage was none other than Dr. Bruck’s second wife, Johanna Elisabeth Margarethe Gräbsch (1884-1963). (Figure 16) I discussed these findings in Post 100.
Dr. Walter Bruck’s collection of papers and photos yielded images of multiple family members about whom I was aware, including one of Dr. Walter Bruck’s three siblings. However, one that stands out amongst all these photos was the one of Dr. Walter Bruck’s grandfather Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck (1813-1883). (Figure 17) Dr. Jonas Bruck is buried along with his son, Dr. Julius Bruck, in the restored tombs at the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław, Poland. (Figure 18) Dr. Jonas Bruck was a brother of my great-great-grandfather Samuel Bruck (1808-1863), the original owner of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland) I previously discussed.
In various places, I found fleeting references that Dr. Walter Bruck and Johanna Elisabeth Margarethe Gräbsch had both previously been married. I eventually found historic documents, my gold standard, confirming this. Using educating guesses based on incomplete captions and estimating the timeframe a few pictures in Dr. Walter Bruck’s collection were taken, that’s to say during WWI and before, I was even able to find pictures of both of their previous spouses among his photos.
Dr. Walter Bruck’s album also contain multiple pictures of his daughter, Renate Bruck (1926-2013). She was married three times, with images of two of her husbands included. Thanks to Post 99 Renate’s twin daughters, whom I knew about but had no expectation of ever finding since they’d left England years ago, instead found me. From this, I learned that Walter Bruck’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren live in Sydney, Australia.
I suspect the story I’m about to relate may resonate with some readers, the topic of missing or incomplete captions on pictures of one’s ancestors. Let me provide some context. During the time that my uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck was a dentist in Liegnitz, Germany he carried on an illicit affair with a married non-Jewish woman, Irmgard Lutze (Figure 19), with whom he had two children, my first cousins Wolfgang (Figure 20) and Wera Lutze. During the Nazi era time when it was prohibited and dangerous for an Aryan to have an affair with a Jew, the cuckolded husband nonetheless raised the children as his own. Therefore, they had the Lutze rather than the Bruck surname.
I knew both first cousins well, though both are now deceased. In any case, included among my cousin’s photographs was one that left me perplexed. It showed three generations, the eldest of whom was identified as “Tante Grete Brauer (mother’s sister).” (Figures 21a-b) The “Brauer” surname reverberated only because when perusing my great-aunt Elsbeth Bruck’s papers at the Stadtmuseum I discovered multiple letters written by Brauers. At the time I had no idea this represented another branch of my extended family.
As I discussed in Post 34, I would eventually work out that “Tante Grete Brauer” was my grandmother Else Bruck née Berliner’s sister, Margarethe Brauer née Berliner (1872-1942) who was murdered in the Holocaust. Prior to finding this isolated picture of my great-aunt, I was completely unaware of her existence. I’ve repeatedly told readers that my father had scant interest in family and rarely spoke of them to me growing up, so I was not surprised by this discovery.
I will give readers one last example of caches of family photos I’ve been able to recover by mentioning my third cousin once-removed, Larry Leyser (Figure 22), who very sadly passed away in 2021 due to complications from Covid. Over the years, Larry and I often shared family documents and photos. Several years ago, he borrowed and scanned a large collection of photos from one of his cousins named Michael Maleckar which he shared with me. As with any such trove, I found a few gems, including one of my own parents at a party they attended in Manhattan the early 1950’s. My father literally “robbed the cradle” when he married my mother as she was 22 years younger than him. This age difference is particularly pronounced in the one picture I show here. (Figure 23)
I will merely say, in closing, that I am aware of other caches of family photos that unfortunately I have been unable to lay my hands on. I completely understand that some of my cousins are busy leading their lives and don’t share my passion for family history, so they are excused. One other thought. The longer I work on my family’s history, the more I realize how much I regret not talking with my relatives when they were alive about some of our ancestors as my stories would be broader and would then be grounded in truths rather veiled in so much conjecture.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Sussman, Jeffrey. Holocaust Fighters: Boxers, Resisters, and Avengers. Roman & Littlefield, 2021.
Note: Beginning with this post, I shift to the timing and chain of events that led to my father’s enlistment in the French Foreign Legion in November 1938, followed in an upcoming post by a discussion of my father’s time in this French military unit.
My father received his dental accreditation from the University of Berlin’s Zahnheilkunde Institut, Dentistry Institute, on the 31st of May 1930. Soon thereafter, he moved to the Free City of Danzig, Freie Stadt Danzig in German, where he apprenticed with a Dr. Fritz Bertram. I think his relocation to Danzig may have been related to the fact that he was very close to his aunt and uncle, Rudolf Löwenstein and Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck, and two of their three children, Jeanne (Figures 1-2) and Heinz Löwenstein, who all lived there. In Post 71, I described the tragic circumstances of Rudolf Löwenstein’s death in a plane crash in then-Czechoslovakia on the 22nd of August 1930, when my father resided with him and his family.
By April 1932, my father had gained enough technical expertise to strike out independently, and open his own dental practice in the nearby town of Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland]. While this was undoubtedly a signature achievement in my father’s life, slightly more than eight months later, on the 30th of January 1933, Hitler was appointed Germany’s Chancellor by the President Paul von Hindenburg, and then became Führer in 1934. An October 1934 picture of the office building in Tiegenhof where my father lived and had his practice was festooned with Nazi flags (Figure 3), clearly demonstrating the predictable impact of political developments in Germany on the Free City of Danzig and the looming danger. By April 1937, my father was devoid of clients, so he shuttered his practice. Judging from the dates on his photos, he appears to have stayed in Tiegenhof until fall of that year.
I think my father then briefly went to Berlin to “lose” himself in the relative anonymity of a larger city. His adored sister Susanne and her husband, Dr. Franz Müller, had already fled Berlin in favor of Italy by March 1936. However, his older brother, Dr. Fedor Bruck, who would ride out the entire war in Berlin hidden by friends and family, was still practicing dentistry in Berlin in 1937 under the auspices of a non-Jewish dentist when this was still feasible. Perhaps, my father stayed briefly with his brother, but, regardless, by March 1938, his dated pictures place him in Vienna, Austria between the 5th and 9th of March. (Figure 4) His ultimate destination though was Fiesole, Italy, where his sister and brother-in-law were then living. His entered Italy on the 10th of March 1938 but arrived in Fiesole only on the 26th of March (Figure 5), spending the intervening period skiing in the Dolomites.
During Italy’s Fascist era, all out-of-town visitors were required to appear with their hosts at the Municipio, City Hall, provide their names, show their identity papers, indicate their anticipated length of stay, and complete what was called a “Soggiorno degli Stranieri in Italia,” or “Stay of Foreigners in Italy.” The surviving records for Fiesole are today kept at a branch of the Municipio called the “Archivio Storico Comunale,” the “Municipal Historic Archive.” (Figure 6) These registration logs and forms, while highly intrusive, are enormously informative for doing genealogical research, uncovering names of visitors, and establishing timelines for these guests. (Figure 7)
While 1938 was hardly a serene time, by June or July, my father nonetheless decided to tour parts of Italy and adjoining Switzerland, including Florence, Rome (Figure 8), Pompeii (Figure 9), Naples, Sorrento, the Island of Ischia, and Ascona; his travels lasted until September. By the 15th of September 1938, he was back in Fiesole according to a surviving immigration register on file at Fiesole’s “Archivio Storico Comunale.” This record indicates an anticipated two-week visit, though it’s not clear how long my dad actually stayed. (Figure 10)
Let me briefly digress and provide some historical context for what was happening in Italy at the time. On the 9th of May 1938, Adolph Hitler had visited Florence escorted by Italian Duce Benito Mussolini, and toured some historic sites. Soon after, on July 14, 1938, Mussolini embraced the “Manifesto of the Racial Scientists.” Basically, this Manifesto declared the Italian civilization to be of Aryan origin and claimed the existence of a “pure” Italian race of which Jews were no part. Between September 2, 1938 and November 17, 1938, Italy enacted a series of racial laws, including one forbidding foreign Jews from settling in Italy.
It quickly became apparent to my father, his sister, her husband, and my grandmother, Else Bruck née Berliner, also living in Fiesole, that remaining in Italy was no longer possible. Again, according to records on file at Fiesole’s “Archivio Storico Comunale,” my aunt and uncle are deleted from the population records of the city, in Italian “Data dalle quale decorre la cancellazione dal Registro di popolazione,” beginning on the 16th of September 1938. (Figures 11-12) Thus, my father’s arrival and registration in Fiesole the day before was likely timed to help his relatives pack up and leave, though he may have stayed longer.
The next stop along my family’s odyssey was Fayence, France, roughly 42 miles west of Nice, France; Fayence is one of the “perched villages” overlooking the plain between the southern Alps and the Esterel massif. My uncle Dr. Franz Müller’s daughter by his first marriage, Margit Mombert née Müller, lived there with her husband, brother-in-law, and mother-in-law on a fruit farm the family owned. I discussed this in Post 22 so refer readers to that publication. I place my aunt, uncle and grandmother’s arrival in Fayence towards the end of September 1938. While the collaborationist government of Vichy France would not be established in the southern part of metropolitan France until July of 1940, my ancestors’ recent displacements and the reach of the Nazis would have made them extremely nervous. Clearly, in the case of my father, riding out the impending storm in France or elsewhere in Europe was not a viable option at the age of only 31.
Coincidentally, by 1938, but likely years before, his widowed aunt Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck and her two children, discussed above, with whom my father had lived in Danzig between 1930 and 1932, had relocated to Nice, France. (Figure 13) Hedwig’s daughter, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein (1902-1986), was close to my father throughout his life. Realizing the danger he was in, she advised him to enlist in the French Foreign Legion, which is precisely what my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, did.
In one of my father’s surviving post-WWII letters, dated the 7th of January 1946, he requested a Carte d’identité, an identify card, from the Department of Alpes-Maritimes in southeast France, where Nice is located. In this letter, my father provides some dates that help establish where he was at various times before and during the war. According to this correspondence, by October 21, 1938, my father had arrived in Paris, France, where he applied for admittance to the French Foreign Legion, to which he was conscripted on the 9th of November 1938 for a five-year hitch. So far, I’ve been unable to determine my father’s whereabouts between September 16, 1938, when he was in Fiesole, Italy, and October 21, 1938, when he arrived in Paris.
The French Foreign Legion is a military service branch of the French Army established in 1831. The Legion is unique in that it is open to foreign recruits willing to serve in the French Armed Forces. My father was given a French nom de guerre, an alias, “Marcel Berger.” (Figures 14a-b) From the French Foreign Legion, I was able to obtain my father’s “Livret Matricule,” military file, which states that Marcel Berger was born on the 6th of January 1907 in Strasbourg in the French Department of Bas-Rhin, and that his profession was “Chirurgien dentist,” dental surgeon. (Figure 15) While my father’s profession is correctly indicated, he was in fact born on the 16th of April 1907 in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]. My father’s fluency in French would have afforded him a measure of protection had he been taken prisoner.
Readers may think the title of this post somewhat odd, as though to imply that my father’s enlistment in the French Foreign Legion was somehow preordained. While my father was very much inclined to believe in kismet, fate, I am a strong believer that you control your own destiny. That said, realistically, without an exit visa to a “sanctuary” country a Jewish person’s options would have been extremely limited in the lead-up to WWII, so my father was fortunate the French Foreign Legion was open to him and that he was unmarried and had no children to look after.
In the following post, I will provide substantially more background on the history of the French Foreign Legion during WWII to account for the Legion’s “conflicted” role at the time and explain how my father was able to travel to France in 1941 “across enemy lines” to visit his beloved sister Susanne one final time.
Note: In this post, I discuss an article published in the Nazi Party’s newspaper in May 1935 describing a run-in my father’s friend from Tiegenhof, Kurt Lau, had with the Nazis that resulted in him being incarcerated for 30 days for “insulting the National Socialist government.”
My father met Kurt Lau, the Managing Director of the “Tieghenhofer Oelmühle,” the rapeseed oil mill, in 1932 after he moved to Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland] (Figure 1); unlike other people whom he befriended there they remained lifelong friends. (Figure 2) By the time my father left the area in 1937, Kurt and his wife Käthe were among the few people who still spoke to him, despite the pressure Germans were under to dissociate themselves from and isolate Jews. When I first started my forensic investigations into my family, reminded that Kurt and Käthe’s son and daughter-in-law are still alive, I reached out to Juergen “Peter” (b. 1923) and Hannelore “Lolo” Lau (b. 1925) (Figure 3) for help identifying some of the people in my father’s photos. They were helpful and gracious beyond all measure. Connecting with Kurt and Käthe’s descendants has allowed our families to continue a friendship that now spans four generations, really five, taking the youngest great-great-grandchildren into account.
Among the items Peter shared with me when we first connected in 2012 was a poor-quality xerox of a newspaper article he thought dated to 1935 or 1936 about his father running afoul of the National Socialist government (Figure 4); written in elaborate German Gothic font, the text was naturally indecipherable, but according to Peter the article describes judicial proceedings the Nazi authorities launched against his father for “defaming the government.” At the time, I was not so interested in the specifics of the case.
Fast forward. Readers will recall that Mr. Peter Hanke, affiliated with “forum.danzig.de,” recently found newspaper clippings in old Danzig [today: Gdansk, Poland] dailies of people I’ve lately written about. This includes my great-uncle Rudolf Löwenstein, subject of Post 71, and, Dr. Franz Schimanski, subject of Post 76. Thinking Peter Hanke might be interested and able to read the article Peter Lau had once given me, I sent it to him, asking if he could transcribe it. He not only did that, but he also translated it. The article gives a glimpse into the mindset of the Nazi overlords and describes Kurt Lau’s arrest and trial. Below is a transcription and translation of the article (a few words are illegible), followed by a discussion of the historical context of the events described.
TRANSCRIPTION:
“Freistadtgebiet
Unerlaubte Kritik
Drei Monate Gefängnis wegen Beleidigung der Regierung
Der Direktor der Tiegenhöfer Ölmühle, Kaufmann Kurt L., hatte am Dienstag eine eilige Reise nach Danzig vor und wollte sich noch schnell rasieren lassen. Als er um 8 Uhr früh das Friseurgeschäft F. in Tiegenhof betrat, war nur der Lehrling da. Im angrenzenden Damensalon saß jedoch eine Kundin, Frau B. aus Tiegenhof, was jedoch Direktor L. nicht wusste. Als nach kurzer Zeit der Kaufmann Gustav Kr. den Herrenraum betrat, knüpfte er mit dem ihm bekannten Direktor L. ein Gespräch an, das fortgesetzt wurde, während der Gehilfe K. Direktor L. rasierte.
L. und Kr. kamen in ein Gespräch über die Guldenabwertung. Aus der Unterhaltung war zu entnehmen, dass L. wie Kr. durch den Guldensturz erhebliche Verluste beim Warenverkauf erlitten hatten, die durch den Zuschlag von 20 Prozent nach Ansicht der Geschäftsleute nicht ausgeglichen werden könnte. Hierauf wandte sich dei Unterhaltung zwei Strafprozessen gegen zwei Kaufleute in Tiegenhof und Neuteich zu. L. war der Meinung, dass der Jude ??? in Neuteich zu Unrecht verurteilt worden wäre und erging sich dabei in einer unpassenden Kritik über die Regierung. Er bemängelte zunächst, dass abgeblich keine Wirtschaftler gehört worden seien, es es könne auch mit Aufrufen allein nichts geschafft werden. Hierbei fielen von ihm die Worte ‘Das grenzt an Betrug.’! Als sich Direktor L. verabschiedete, machte er eine drastische Bemerkung, in der das bekannte Wort vom Grundeis vorkam.
Die Kundin im Damensalon war namentlich über die letzten Worte empört und erkundigte sich nach dem Namen des Sprechers; sie erstattete dann Strafanzeige gegen L. Dieser wurde noch am selben Tage in einem Danziger Café festgenommen und in Schutzhaft überführt. Er hatte sich am Mittwoch vor dem Tiegenhofer Amtsgericht wegen Verleumdung der Regierung zu verantworten. Insbesondere wurden ihm der Ausdruck “Das grenzt an Betrug!” und der letzte Satz seines Gesprächs zur Last gelegt.
Bei der Beweisaufnahme bestritt der Angeklagte, sich irgendwie schuldig gemacht zu haben. Er habe nicht das Gespräch angefangen, sondern der Kaufmann Kr. Ferner habe er es eilig gehabt und könne bei einer Rasur sich philosophische Reden gehalten haben.
Als Belastungszeugen waren Frau B., die Friseuse R. und der Gehilfe K. geladen worden. Ihre eidlichen Aussagen ergaben, dass die Unterhaltung in der eingangs beschriebenen Form statt gefunden haben musste und die inkriminierten Worte gefallen waren. Auch der Kaufmann Kr. musste die Möglichkeit der Ausdrücke zugeben.
Der Verteidiger, Rechtsanwalt M., glaubte zunächst an Hand von Presseberichten feststellen zu können, dass ‘überall geschimpft’ worden sei. Ferner war er der Ansicht, dass auch der Wert der Zeugenaussagen problematisch sei. Es könne in der heutigen Zeit von keinem Kaufmann Begeisterung über die schwierigen Wirtschaftslage verlangt werden.
Der Angeklagte habe ‘nicht die Absicht gehabt, zu provozieren,’ sondern sich nur im Rahmen der Allgemeinheit verhalten. Die Vorsätzlichkeit einer Beleidigung sei zu verneinen, der letzte Satz ist als zulässiger Herrenwitz zu werten.
Der Vertreter der Anklagebehörde sah dagegen einen Verstoß gegen die Strafparagraphen ??? und 105a als gegeben an. Eine Kritik über die Abwertung des Guldens dürfe nicht zur Beleidigung der Regierung ausarten. Der Beschuldigte als gebildeter Mensch und Parteigenosse hätte vielmehr die Pflicht gehabt, beruhigend zu wirken und als Wirtschaftler seine Bedenken an geeigneter Stelle vortragen können.
Desgleichen legte das Gericht dar, dass der Angeklagte als Wirtschaftsführer sich über die Folgen seiner Handlungen hätte bewusst sein müssen.
Die Provokation verlange schwere Sühne, strafmildernd sei nur, dass der Angeklagte sich bisher einwandfrei geführt hatte. Das Urteil lautete auf drei Monate Gefängnis.
Der Strafprozess,hatte in Tiegenhof verständlicherweise großes Aufsehen erregte, der überfüllte Zuhörerraum musste schon vor der Verhandlung ??????????”
TRANSLATION:
“Free city area
Unauthorized criticism
Three months in prison for insulting the government
The director of the Tiegenhöfer Oelmühle, businessman Kurt L., was planning an urgent trip to Danzig on Tuesday and wanted to have a quick shave. When he entered the F. hairdresser’s shop in Tiegenhof at 8 a.m., only the apprentice was there. However, a customer, Mrs. B. from Tiegenhof, was sitting in the adjacent ladies’ salon, but Director L. did not know this. When the merchant Gustav Kr. entered the gentlemen’s room after a short time, he started a conversation with director L., whom he knew, which was continued while the assistant K. was shaving director L.
L. and Kr. got into a conversation about the devaluation of the Gulden. From the conversation, it could be gathered that L. and Kr. had suffered considerable losses in the sale of goods as a result of the fall of the Gulden, which in the opinion of the businessmen could not be compensated by the surcharge of 20 percent. The conversation then turned to two criminal proceedings against two merchants in Tiegenhof and Neuteich. L. believed the Jew ??? had been wrongly convicted in Neuteich, and in doing so he made an inappropriate criticism of the government. First, he criticized that no economists had been heard, and that nothing could be achieved even with appeals alone. Here he used the words ‘This borders on fraud!’ When director L. said goodbye, he made a drastic remark in which the well-known f***-word was mentioned.
The customer in the ladies’ salon was outraged by the last words and inquired about the name of the speaker; she then filed charges against L. He was arrested in a café in Danzig and transferred to protective custody the same day. On Wednesday he had to appear at the Tiegenhof District Court for defamation of the government. In particular, he was charged with the expression ‘That borders on fraud!’ and the last sentence of his conversation.
At the hearing of evidence, the accused denied having been guilty in any way. He had not started the conversation, but the businessman Kr. Furthermore, he had been in a hurry and couldn’t have made any philosophical speeches while being shaved.
Ms. B., the hairdresser R. and the assistant K. had been summoned as witnesses for the prosecution. Their sworn statements showed that the conversation must have taken place in the form described at the beginning and that the incriminating words had been spoken. The merchant Kr. also had to admit the possibility of the expressions.
The defense counsel, attorney M., initially believed that he could establish from press reports that ‘everyone bitches.’ Furthermore, he believed the value of the witness statements was also problematic. Nowadays, no businessman can be expected to be enthusiastic about the difficult economic situation.
The accused had ‘not intended to provoke’ but had only behaved in the context of the general public. The willfulness of an insult was to be denied, the last sentence was to be regarded as a permissible joke.
The representative of the prosecuting authority, however, considered it a violation of the penal clauses ??? and 105a as given. A criticism about the devaluation of the Gulden should not be allowed to degenerate into an insult to the government. The accused, as an educated person and party comrade, should rather have had the duty of have a calming effect and, as an economist, should have voiced his concerns in a suitable place.
Similarly, the court stated that as an economic leader, the accused should have been aware of the consequences of his actions.
The provocation demanded severe atonement, the only mitigating factor being that the defendant had previously conducted himself impeccably. The sentence was three months in prison.
The criminal trial understandably caused a great stir in Tiegenhof, and the crowded auditorium had to be ????? before the hearing.”
One thing to note about the original article is that only the forename and first one or two letters of the surname appear; there can be no doubt locals would have known who was being discussed, although it’s unclear to me why the need to partially mask identities. Even so, with access to Tiegenhof Address Books and a list of local businesses of the time, I have been able to identify some of the parties. The defendant is obviously “Kurt Lau.” “Gustav Kr.,” I was able to determine referred to the businessman Gustav Kretschmann, Manufaktur und Kurzwaren, manufacturing and haberdashery. (Figure 5) Similarly, the friseur, hairdresser, initial “F.” refers to Sally Folchert (Figure 6), and the defense attorney, initial “M.,” can only be the Rechtsanwalt und Notar, lawyer and notary, “Markfeldt,” as he’s the only lawyer in Tiegenhof at the time whose surname begins with an “M.” (Figure 5)
Before describing the historical context leading to Kurt Lau’s legal troubles, let me say a few words about the Free City of Danzig, in German, Freie Stadt Danzig. It was a semi-autonomous city-state created according to the terms of the Treaty of Versailles following WWI, that existed between 1920 and 1939. It consisted of the Baltic seaport of Danzig along with nearly 200 towns in the surrounding area, including Tiegenhof where my father briefly had his dental practice; Tiegenhof was about 25 miles SE of Danzig. The Free City was not an independent state, but rather was under the protection of the League of Nations. The Free City’s population was 98% German, and by 1936 a majority of the Senate, the Free City’s governing body, was composed of Nazis who agitated for reunification with Germany.
In Post 8, I described Nazi parades my father documented that took place, respectively, in 1933, 1934 and 1935, along the street that fronted the building where he lived and had his dental practice. (Figure 7) On the 5th of April 1935, Hermann Göring (Figure 8), a German political and military leader as well as one of the most powerful figures in the Nazi Party, participated in that parade in support of the slate of Nazi candidates running for parliament in the Free City. Göring’s appearance would have occurred just before these elections on the 7th of April 1935, cited above. These were assuredly very scary times for my father.
Returning now to Kurt Lau’s run-in with the law. Based on events reported in the New York Times on the 3rd of May 1935 (Figure 9), on May 2nd the Free City’s Senate devalued the Danzig Gulden by 42.37 percent. However, according to Peter Hanke, the Nazi government judiciously avoided use of the term “devaluation,” and instead referred to it euphemistically as a “revaluation.” The local populace did not react as the Nazis had expected and wanted. Most people immediately withdrew their savings and purchased any available goods before prices were increased. Less than a week after the devaluation of the Gulden, prices for almost all goods were increased. This is the context in which Kurt Lau and Gustav Kretschmann complained about the considerable losses they’d suffered and caused Kurt Lau to “insult the Nazi government.” Rich indeed. As to the victims of Nazi “insults,” they never received retributive justice.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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)
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.
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.
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.
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):
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.”
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.
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)
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!
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.
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.
Note: In this post, I tell readers a little more about a signet ring given to my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, by his landlady in 1937 upon his departure from Tiegenhof, where he had his dental practice in the Free State of Danzig. The post is based on information provided by one of the co-authors of a book on the history of Tiegenhof, Mr. Grzegorz Gola.
I apologize to readers at the very outset, as this Blog post is likely to be of interest to few of you and is more a reflection of my obsession with accuracy, recognizing I’m not an expert on many subjects I write about. When people with expertise on the matters I discuss enhance my understanding of these topics, I’m delighted.
From Blog Post 3, regular readers may recall the extraordinary lengths to which I went to learn the identity of a woman my father only ever referred to when I was growing up as “Die Schlummermutter,” translated roughly as “landlady.” With much letter-writing and the help of a gentleman from the Danzig Forum, I eventually learned Die Schlummermutter was named Frau Margaretha “Grete” Wilhelmine Gramatzki née Gleixner. She was born in Tiegenhof on June 13, 1885 and died there on February 24, 1942.
Figure 1. My father and “Die Schlummermutter” (Grete Gramatzki) in Tiegenhof in Spring 1933, with sisters Suse Epp (left) and Idschi EppFigure 2. Die Schlummermutter, or as she was locally known “dicke Grete” (fat Grete)My father spoke of Grete Gramatzki with great affection, and the surviving pictures of the two of them together attest to this friendship. (Figure 1) She was an enormous woman, weighing more than 400 pounds, and someone I picture to be of outsize personality. (Figure 2) Given the close bond between “dicke Grete” (“fat Grete”), as she was known to locals, and my father, it comes as no surprise that upon my father’s departure from Tiegenhof, some months after Grete’s birthday in June 1937 (Figure 3), she gave him a parting gift. That souvenir was a signet ring (Figure 4) that had belonged to her husband, who I came to learn was Hans Erich Gramatzki. He was born on August 10, 1879 and died at an unknown date. My father arrived in Tiegenhof on April 9, 1932, and while multiple photos post-dating his arrival show Grete Gramatzki, none of her husband exist; I surmise he was no longer alive by the time my father moved to town.
Figure 3. Grete Gramatzki on what would have been her 52nd birthday on June 13, 1937, with an unknown friend on her left and my father’s then-girlfriend Erika on her right. My father left Tiegenhof shortly after this photo was takenFigure 4. Signet ring given to my father by Grete Gramatzki, once belonging to her husband
“The main element of the coat of arms on the ring shows a sloped battle axe embedded in a shield on what was once a red background, today only very faintly visible. The Gramatzki family is Polish aristocracy of the so-called Topór tribe or clan, once living around Preußisch Eylau [today: south of Kaliningrad, Russia]. And, in fact comparing the ring’s coat of arms to that of the Topór tribe shows them to be remarkably similar.”
A signet ring is described as “. . .having a flat bezel, usually wider than the rest of the hoop, which is decorated, normally in intaglio, so that it will leave a raised (relief) impression of the design when the ring is pressed onto soft sealing wax or similar material.” Thus, in the case of the ring given by Die Schlummermutter to my father it is essentially the “signature” of the Gramatzki family and a mirror image of their family’s coat of arms, so I logically assumed. However, Mr. Grzegorz Gola remarked the following:
“In my opinion, this is a variant of the ‘oksza’ coat of arms. (Figure 5) It is very similar to the ‘topór’ coat of arms. (Figure 6) ‘Oksza’ is a battle axe with a sharp tip, inaccurately, a halberd. According to the rules of heraldry, ‘oksza’ is turned to the right [left, when looking at the impression that would be pressed onto soft sealing wax]. The Gramatzki family had a ‘topór’ coat of arms. The Gramacki family had a ‘oksza’ coat of arms. The name ‘Gramacki’ in Polish is pronounced almost identically to the German pronunciation of ‘Gramatzki.’”
Figure 5. The “Oksza” Polish Coat of Arms of the Gramacki familyFigure 6. The very similar “Topór” Polish Coat of Arms of the Gramatzki family
It’s not entirely clear what to make of this, that the ring given to my father, supposedly belonging to Grete Gramatzki’s husband, shows the Gramacki rather than the Gramatzki coat of arms. Possibly, the Polish Gramacki’s originally hailed from Germany or Prussia, and the Gramacki’s and Gramatzki’s have common ancestors.
Figure 7. The signet ring’s heraldic border; neither the Oksza nor the Topór coat of arms bear such a border
Mr. Grzegorz Gola noted one other thing:
“. . .it is interesting that the coat of arms has a heraldic border (a narrow strip on the edge of the coat of arms). (Figure 7) This is very rare in Polish coat of arms. Much more often, this occurs in Scottish, French or English coat of arms. Formerly, in Poland, this meant it was the coat of arms of a younger, newer branch of the family. (In England and France, the heraldic border meant the family of an illegitimate child.)”
Perhaps the first and second issues are interrelated, the slight variation in the shape of the battle axe and the presence of a heraldic border, indicating that Grete Gramatzki’s husband was from a younger branch of an older family or an offspring of an illegitimate son.
Note: In this post, I discuss the evidence for my father’s, Dr. Otto Bruck, conversion to Christianity from Judaism, confirmation of which I recently came upon completely inadvertently.
Growing up, my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, never discussed being born into the Jewish religion. If my memory is correct, I think I first learned about it when I was visiting my maternal grandmother in Nice, France as a child. At the time, we were walking through Vieux Nice, when she turned, pointed to a building, told me that’s where my father worked as a dentist after WWII, and mentioned he was Jewish; it would be many years before I understood the significance of all this. Regular readers may recall I discussed my father’s time in Nice after the war in Post 26 and touched on the fact that he was not legally permitted to practice dentistry in France because he was “apatride,” stateless. He was eventually caught and fled to America before he could be brought up on charges that were eventually dropped by the French authorities.
Because religion was not a part of my upbringing, I never gave much thought to it, although, ironically, I was eventually baptized as a Roman Catholic in Lyon, France on August 2, 1957, when I was six years old. (Figure 1) Given the events my father had lived through, it made sense to him I should have a religion. It’s always puzzled me, however, why my father thought that being baptized would afford me any protection if a future anti-Semitic political entity gained power and decided, as the Nazis had, that anyone with two Jewish grandparents is a Jew. Puzzles without answers.
Given my father’s casual attitude about many things, including relatives and religion, it’s not surprising that much of what I’ve learned about such matters has involved a lot of effort. Because my father considered himself German rather than Jewish, it would have made sense to me if he had converted to Christianity from Judaism. But, as I just remarked, because of my father’s casual attitude, it would also not have surprised me if he’d never made the effort to formally convert. Regardless, I’d never previously been able to find definitive proof either way.
The archives at the Centrum Judaicum Berlin include documentation that my father’s brother, Dr. Fedor Bruck, converted from Judaism at the Messiah Chapel in Berlin’s Prenzlauer Berg, Kastanienallee 22 on June 11, 1939, very late indeed. Similarly, the Centrum Judaicum Berlin retains archival records for my Aunt Susanne’s husband, Dr. Franz Müller, who converted much earlier, on November 25, 1901, but still lost his teaching position at Humboldt University many years later, in 1933.
I’m unaware of any comprehensive database that includes the names and records of Jewish converts in Germany. However, since conversion records survive at the Centrum Judaicum for both of my uncles, and since my father attended dental school in Berlin, I began the search for proof of my father’s own conversion here; they found nothing although it was suggested that knowing the specific church where he might have converted could prove useful. Knowing my father had also apprenticed in Danzig [today: Gdansk, Poland] for a short period after graduating from dental school, I contacted the archives there, again to no avail. The other place I reckoned where my father might have converted to Christianity was the town where he was a dentist between April 1932 and April 1937, Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwor Gdanski, Poland], although I had no idea at the time where to begin looking for such records.
I’ve learned, it was not uncommon beginning in the last half of the nineteenth century for German-Jews to convert to Christianity as a means of assimilating into German society. A virulent wave of anti-Semitism that had emerged in Germany in the 1880s may have been another factor in the decision of some Jews to convert.
I remember, as a child, my father talking about his time in Tiegenhof and how he drank heavily in those days. Multiple pictures from my father’s days there exist showing him visibly inebriated. (Figure 2) My father was by no means an alcoholic, and he justified his heavy drinking as “necessary to fit in.” I’ve mentioned in earlier posts that my father was an active sportsman, particularly an excellent tennis player. It’s highly likely there were barriers to becoming a member of the various sports and social organizations in Tiegenhof to which my father belonged, religion no doubt being one of them. Thus, I have concluded that if my father did not convert to Christianity before he arrived in Tiegenhof, the provincial mores of this small town may have necessitated he do so here. That said, until recently, I’d been unable to find any evidence my father ever converted.
Few of my father’s papers survive, but one document that has caught my attention only because it included the names of two members of the Joost family. (Figure 3) Readers must understand that on account of all the Tiegenhof-related documents, books, and address directories I’ve perused over the years, many family surnames are now extremely familiar to me; such was the case with the surname “Joost.” In reviewing this document, I was absolutely convinced it was a dental invoice because at the top of the paper it included my father’s name and identified him as a “zahnarzt,” a dentist. Still, it seemed odd my father would have saved only one invoice among the many he’d no doubt written over the years as a dentist.
Setting aside this anomaly, I began to research in various databases the Joost names I found on the paper in question. As readers can see, towards the bottom left side is written “Alb. Joost,” while on the bottom right side is written “f. Alb. Joost Kathe Joost.” From ancestry.com, I discovered there lived a “Schneidermeister,” a tailor, in Tiegenhof, by the name of “Jacob Albert Joost,” born on July 27, 1865, who died on January 23, 1937. The profession was passed on to his son, “Alfred Albert Joost,” born on June 4, 1898 (Figure 4-5), who died on February 18, 1975; he was married to Käthe Großnick. (Figure 6) The existence of the father and son tailors was confirmed by various Tiegenhof Address Books. (Figures 7-10) Because both father and son had Albert in their name, I was uncertain whether the presumed dental work had been done on the father or son.
To resolve this confusion, I asked one of my cousins to decipher the document. I learned the document was a receipt not for dental work, as I’d thought, but for payment of a church tax. Like in Germany and several other European countries, in the Free State of Danzig, where Tiegenhof was located, members of the Protestant or Catholic Churches were compelled to pay a church tax of 7.5% of their income. In 1936, my father was obviously a member of the Evangelische Kirche in Tiegenhof (Figures 11-14), and his annual tax amounted to 90 Guilden 90 Pfenninge; he was permitted to pay his obligation in four installments. The first payment of 22 Guilden 74 Pfenninge was made on October 6, 1936, and it was receipted by “Alb. Joost,” while the second and third installments were made on December 29, 1936. Kaethe Joost was the authorized representative of Albert Joost, so the “f” in “f. Alb. Joost Kathe Joost” stands for “fuer,” “for” or “in place of,” indicating she signed the receipt in lieu of her husband. The last installment would have been due on March 15, 1937, a payment my father is unlikely to have made because by then he would no doubt have been expelled from the Church for being of the “Jewish race.” By mid-1937, my father had left Tiegenhof.
Having found the clear-cut proof that my father had converted to Christianity and knowing he’d been a member of Tiegenhof’s Evangelical Church, I contacted Mr. Peter Hanke from the Danzig Forum asking him whether conversion records for this church still exist. He told me he’d never found such records, and that they’d likely not survived the turmoil of WWII. This was disappointing but hardly unexpected.
Interestingly, Peter did find a brief reference to Albert Joost in Vol. 36 of the “Tiegenhofer Nachrichten,” the one-time annual journal for former German residents of Tiegenhof and their descendants. In German it says: “Bei Joost war fruehmorgens um 4 Uhr Licht, um diese Zeit arbeitete er bereits in seiner Werkstatt; um 9 Uhr abends war immer noch das Petroleumlicht in der Werkstatt zu sehen. Der war einer von den Tiegenoertern, die ich nie in einem Gasthaus gesehen habe, aber jeden Sonntag im blauen Anzug in der Kirche.” Translated: “Joost was already at work at 4 a.m. in the morning. At 9 p.m. the kerosene lamp could still be seen in his workshop. That man was one of the “Tiegenoerter,” never seen in a tavern but come Sunday always wore a blue suit to church.” Possibly, Albert Joost was the “tithe collector” with his wife for Tiegenhof’s Evangelical Church.
Proof of my father’s conversion to Christianity came in a most roundabout way. As mentioned, it’s highly unlikely his actual conversion document survived WWII, but the important thing is that my father’s attempt to assimilate into German society ended in failure and he was still forced to flee to save himself.
Note: This article provides an update to my Blog post of August 2017 about “Die Schlummermutter,” the landlady and owner of the building on Markstraße 8 in Tiegenhof where my father had his dental practice and lived.
Readers may recall the frustration I expressed in my original post about being unable to figure out who exactly the Schlummermutter was. I explained the lengths to which I went to ascertain her identity, and how I eventually learned from three Tiegenhof “old-timers” that her married name had been Ms. Grete Gramatzki, and that she’d been referred to as “Dicke Grete” (“Fat Grete”), because of her size; no one, however, could tell me her maiden name. (Figure 1)
Upon my father’s departure from Tiegenhof, roughly in mid-1937, Ms. Gramatzki gave my father a signet ring that had once belonged to her husband. The main element of the coat of arms on the ring shows a sloped battle axe embedded in a shield on what was once a red background, today only very faintly visible. (Figure 2) The Gramatzki family is Polish aristocracy of the so-called Topór tribe or clan, once living around Preußisch Eylau [today: south of Kaliningrad, Russia]. And, in fact comparing the ring’s coat of arms to that of the Topór tribe shows them to be remarkably similar. (Figure 3) Thus, in searching for Ms. Gramatzki’s origins, I kept looking for a baronial connection which I was unable to find. To remind readers what I wrote in my original post:
“I came across a gentleman, named ‘August Archibald von Gramatzki’ born in 1837 who died in May 1913 in Danzig, within the period I am seeking, who coincidentally was married to a ‘Margarethe Clara von Gramatzki, née Mönch’ born January 7, 1871, seemingly about the Schlummermutter’s age. By all measures, this would have seemed a perfect fit, since this Archibald von Gramatzki was a Baron with long-standing connections to nearby-Danzig, first as the District Administrator (Landrat) for ‘Kreis Danzig-Land’ from 1867 to 1887, and, after it was subdivided, for ‘Kreis Danziger Niederung,’ from 1887-1895. The only thing that belies this conclusion is that in 1937, the year my father left Tiegenhof for good, a birthday party was held in the Schlummermutter’s honor on the 13th of June.”
I’ve previously mentioned that periodically readers send me documents, photos and/or information related to my Blog posts. Recently, one reader suggested I register for a German Forum, “Forum.Danzig.de,” discussed in Post 29, which devotes an entire section to Tiegenhof. In my first post after registering I asked members for their help in learning more about “Die Schlummermutter.” People were exceptionally helpful, and a few members uncovered a different “Margarete” married to yet another member of the Gramatzki family. This lady also seemed a possible candidate, but, once again, her date of birth did not match that of Die Schlummermutter, June 13th. Given my father’s penchant for exactitude, I never contemplated that because my father would soon be leaving Tiegenhof for good that he and Ms. Gramatzki’s friends would move her birthday celebration forward. If my father wrote June 13th as Grete’s birthday, I knew this was her date of birth. (Figure 4)
Several days passed with no further developments. Then, Mr. Peter Hanke, the Forum member discussed in Post 29 who has been of enormous help, sent me a very poor copy of a marriage record between a “HANS ERICH GRAMATZKI” and a “MARGARETHA WILHELMINE GLEIXNER” that took place on October 4, 1919; at the time of their marriage, Erich Gramatzki was 40, born around 1879, and Margaretha Gleixner was 34, born around 1885, thus, within the general time-frame I was searching. Peter uncovered this marriage record in “archion.de,” a web portal of the German Protestant Lutheran Church, to which he’s subscribed. Without Peter’s help, it’s unlikely I would have stumbled upon this record on my own.
This Margaretha began to appear like a “viable” candidate. And, this was confirmed the next day when Peter sent me additional documentation from the registry of baptisms from Tiegenhof’s Protestant Church for the year 1885. Here, Peter found Margaretha Wilhelmine Gleixner listed, identifying her parents as GUSTAV THEODOR GLEIXNER and his wife AUGUSTA née KINDER, and, most importantly, giving her birthday as the 13th of June, just as my father had asserted; Margaretha was baptized on the 26th of July, with four godparents present, including an uncle named RICHARD GLEIXNER. (Figures 5a, 5b & 5c)
Having finally discovered the Schlummermutter’s maiden name after years of searching was exhilarating. Next, I turned to ancestry.com and found a surprising number of historic documents related to the Gramatzki and Gleixner families. I found copies of both documents Peter had sent me, including a more legible copy of the marriage register. (Figure 6) I learned Margaretha’s father-in-law, KARL ADOLF GRAMATZKI, had been a “kornmeister,” a grain operator dealing in cereals who also kept the books. Margaretha’s father, Gustav Theodor Gleixner, had been a dye-house owner, and her husband, Hans Erich Gramatzki, a general practitioner. I located Hans Erich Gramatzki’s birth certificate showing he was born on August 10, 1879. (Figure 7) For the Gleixner family, I partially reconstructed five generations ranging from the late 18th century to the early 20th century, while for the Gramatzki family I found three generations of relatives. This included the birth register for Richard Hermann Gleixner, Margaretha’s godfather and uncle, who I learned was born on July 14, 1861.
After confirming the names of Margaretha’s father, uncle, and husband, I searched for them in the various Tiegenhof Address Books (i.e., 1910, 1911, 1925, 1927-28, 1930, and 1943). An Erich Gramatzki is listed in the 1910 and 1911 directories (Figure 8), then again in the 1930 directory (Figure 9), in all instances identified as a “prakt. Arzt [= praktikumer Arzt],” or general practitioner. In 1910 and 1911 he is living on Vorhofstraße, and in 1930 at Markstraße 8. When I wrote the initial post, I was uncertain whether Erich Gramatzki was related to Grete Gramatzki, but he was clearly her future husband. Finding him living at Markstraße 8 in 1930 confirms their relationship, and suggests he was still alive at the time. By the time my father arrived in Tiegenhof in 1932, Erich may have been dead, but since there are no known Tiegenhof Address Books between 1930 and 1943, I can’t confirm this.
The 1925 and 1930 address books show Margaretha’s father, Gustav Gleixner, living at Markstraße 8 (Figures 10 & 11); this is the building later owned by the Schlummermutter where my father lived and had his dental practice. Two Richard Gleixners are also listed, one a bäckermeister, a baker, the other a rentier, an archaic German word for “a well-off person or pensioner,” both located at Bahnhofstraße 153. Initially, I thought they were the same person because of the identical street address, but now think they are nephew and uncle.
Curious as to whether the edifice where the bakery was located still exists, I asked Peter whether a contemporary street map of Tiegenhof with numbered buildings exists. Peter made an interesting discovery while looking for such a map. In Günter Jeglin’s book “TIEGENHOF und der Kreis Großes Werder in Bildern,” there is a picture whose caption in German reads as follow:
“Vor dem Haus Schlenger stehend, ein Blick in die Bahnhofstraße. Links: Haus Herm. Schulz, Otto Enders, Klizke-Bäcker Gleixner, wie seine Schwester, die Dicke Grete Gramatzki, ihn nannte. Rechts: der um 1900 erbaute Machandel-Speicher, dahinter Haus Labowski, der hohe Giebel Welnitz/Gertler.”
Translated: “Looking down Bahnhofstraße from the front of the Schlenger house. To the left: House of Herm. Schulz, Otto Enders, Klizke-baker Gleixner, as his sister, fat Grete Gramatzki, referred to him. To the right: The Machandel store, built around 1900, the Labowski House, then the high gable, Welnitz/Gertner”
As explained to me, “klizke” or “klitzke” is a Low German expression for the nowadays better-known words “klitschig” or “klietschig,” meaning “doughy.” This may imply the baker Gleixner was overweight like his sister, Dicke Grete Gramatzki.
Figure 12-Richard Gleixner identified as a “Bäckermeister” (baker) and Ida Epp as a “Werderkaffeegeschäft” (coffee shop) in the 1943 Tiegenhof Address Book
Regardless, the caption provided the first revelation that Margaretha had a brother and that he was a baker. Presumably, this was the Richard Gleixner listed as a “Bäckermeister” in the Tiegenhof address books for 1925, 1927-28, 1930 and 1943 (Figure 12), not to be confused with the uncle Richard Gleixner living at the same address who was by 1925 already a “rentier,” but formerly a baker too according to birth and/or death registers I found for three of his children.
After learning of Margaretha’s brother, I found the registers for his baptism (Figure 13) and marriage (Figure 14), showing he was born as GUSTAV ADOLF RICHARD GLEIXNER on June 20, 1880, was baptized on August 1, 1880, was married to ELLA EMMA MARIE EICHNER in Berlin on April 5, 1905, and gave birth to URSULA CHARLOTTE GLEIXNER on September 14, 1919, with a different wife, WANDA GLEIXNER née FEDERAU.
In the 1930 Tiegenhof Address Book, I made another interesting discovery. I found the following listing “GRAMATZKI und [=and] EPP, FIRMA MARGARETE. SUSANNA, WÄSCHE UND HANDARBEITSGESCHÄFT [=Lingerie & handicraft business], MARKSTRAßE 8.” (Figures 9 & 15) In Post 5, I assumed the two sisters, Idschi & Suse Epp, with whom my father had once been friends, had simply boarded in the same establishment as my dad. Instead, it seems both had been business partners of the Schlummermutter; in the 1943 directory, only Ida Epp is listed at Adolf Hitler Straße 8, as Markstraße was known during the Nazi era (Figure 12), confirming that Grete Gramatzki was no longer alive (i.e., one informant told me she died in 1939 or 1940, although, to date, I’ve not located her death certificate).
Peter Hanke uncovered a fleeting reference on “Forum.Danzig” that even as a child Grete Gramatzki was overweight and already referred to as “die dicke Grete Gleixner,” the fat Grete Gleixner.
Readers are no doubt overwhelmed with the multitude of names that have been thrown at them. Suffice it to say, that between the information collected and sent to me by Peter Hanke from “Forum.Danzig.de” and the various address books from Tiegenhof spanning from 1910 to 1943, I was incrementally able to ascertain the Schlummermutter’s maiden name and origin, as well as her family’s connection to Tiegenhof. I remain optimistic that with more forensic investigation, I may ultimately be able to identify Grete Gramatzki’s family members in my father’s pictures. This is a long-shot, but not impossible given where I started and what I’ve already learned.
