POSTSCRIPT ADDED ON MAY 18, 2021 IN RED AT THE BOTTOM
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”
—Edmund Burke—
“Nobody made a greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could do only a little.”
—Edmund Burke—
Note: This post is about a non-Jewish instrument maker named Matthias Eugen Walter Mehne, the first husband of Renate Bruck, daughter of my famed ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck. Matthias’ courage during the era of the National Socialists rightfully entitles him to be called a “silent hero.” Silent heroes are Jewish men and women who resisted National Socialist persecution, and those who helped them to do so.
There is a lot of “connective tissue” to this Blog post, so to speak. I draw upon information collected mostly in the last few months that occasioned incremental discoveries about Matthias Eugen Walter Mehne, who I will henceforth refer to as “Matthias Mehne.” He was Renate Bruck’s (1926-2013) first husband; she was the sole surviving daughter of my famed ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (1872-1937), and his wife, Johanna Bruck née Gräbsch (1884-1963). (Figure 1) As a result of my recent findings, I am compelled to revise Blog Post 68 to rectify conclusions I came to springing from incomplete information or erroneous inferences.
Given the gradational way by which I typically learn about various of my ancestors, it is often impossible for me to recall what I learned when. Nevertheless, I will try in the case of Matthias Mehne.
Ironically, I initially became aware of Renate Bruck’s first husband about two years ago upon obtaining a copy of her marriage certificate to her second husband, Henry Ernest Graham. Renate married Henry on the 18th of October 1948 in Willesden, Middlesex, England, and their marriage certificate identified both of their previous spouses. At the time, I misread Renate’s first husband’s name simply as “Eugen Walter Mehne,” failing to clearly see his first name was “Matthias.” (Figure 2) As readers will see, this was a grave oversight.
Knowing that Renate Bruck had been born in 1926 in Breslau, Germany [today: Wrocław, Poland] and that she was already on her second marriage at 22 years of age, I assumed she had met and gotten married to Matthias Mehne in Breslau at a young age. In retrospect, given the disruptions wrought by WWII and Renate’s status as half-Jewish, this is not necessarily a given and in fact appears not to have been the case.
In Breslau address books I found a “Eugen Mehne” listed between 1908 and 1934 (Figures 3a-b), and a “Eugen Walter Mehne” for 1935, 1936, and 1939; I assumed they were the same person. I also found a birth certificate for an “Albert Eugen Mehne” (Figures 4a-b) but since he was born in 1883 and would have been 43 years Renate’s elder, I ruled him out as her husband. Given the trend to incorporate father’s forenames into their son’s name, I falsely concluded that Eugen Mehne was the son of Albert Eugen Mehne, and Renate’s first husband. This made sense at the time since I could not find information on a Eugen Walter Mehne, i.e., Matthias Mehne, or so I thought.
I would eventually learn that Eugen and Albert Eugen were the same person. This should have been obvious to me from the start given I found a 1907 marriage certificate for Albert Eugen Mehne (Figures 5a-c), meaning the Breslau address book listings for Eugen Mehne from 1908 until at least the mid-1930’s would have been those for the father born in 1883. Regardless, I did not initially make the connection. As mentioned above, Breslau address books for 1935 (Figure 6a), 1936 (Figure 6b), and 1939 (Figure 6c) list a “Eugene Walter Mehne” who, I thought was the father Eugen Mehne, but now realize was the son Matthias Eugen Walter Mehne. This was in fact the first documentation I found on the son, although I did not realize it at the time. None of the Breslau address books list both the father and son in the same directory; what to make of this is unclear. I forgive readers for being as confused as I was. Let us move on.
This is where things stood until January of this year when I received two riveting emails following one upon the other. The first came from a Dr. Kate Kennedy, who is a writer and broadcaster, and the Associate Director for Oxford’s Centre for Life-Writing (Figure 7), after she stumbled upon Post 68 where I initially mentioned Albert Eugen Mehne. Kate proceeded to tell me a fascinating story. She is currently writing a book about a series of journeys she has taken across the globe following the trail of instruments that have a particular story to tell. One instrument Kate is researching is a missing cello that belonged to an Anita Lasker-Wallfisch that was taken from her before she was sent to Auschwitz when she lived in Breslau. Ms. Lasker-Wallfisch, born in 1925, survived the Holocaust, and is still alive as of this writing. According to Dr. Kennedy, the instrument maker Walter Matthias Mehne rescued the cello after Anita was arrested and may have given it to a judge to keep it safe for the duration of the war, although Anita is unsure of this. Regardless, to this day, the cello remains missing, and Dr. Kennedy is on a quest to track it down.
Setting aside my own confusion as to the Mehne names, Kate correctly presumed that Matthias Mehne was the son of Albert Eugen Mehne, as it was a father/son luthier business. She also told me they inhabited a shop on the corner of Tauentzien Platz in Breslau in the center of town with red violin-shaped signs inside their store, and that they refused to display a picture of Hitler, a most courageous act in the era of the National Socialists. I will return to the subject of the Mehne and Lasker-Wallfisch families below, but first I want to mention the second email I received in January.
This correspondence came from Dr. Tilo Wahl, the incredible findings of which have been the subject of my two previous posts, Posts 99 and 100. Buried within the album of photographs and documents once belonging to my esteemed ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck, was a photograph (Figure 8) and article (Figures 9a-c) about Renate Bruck’s first husband, whom she did not identify by name. Still, the undated German newspaper article which I painstakingly retyped into my go-to online translator, DeepL, confirmed that he went by the name “Matthias Mehne” and at the time the article was written lived in the Berlin borough of Wilmersdorf; comparing his picture taken in Berlin in 1947-1948 with Renate to the one in the news article, it is clear it is the same person. Only at this moment did I reexamine Renate’s 1948 marriage certificate and realize that her first husband’s complete name had been “Matthias Eugen Walter Mehne” (see Figure 2) and that he went by the name “Matthias Mehne”; it became obvious then that Albert Eugen Mehne had to have been his father.
Having found virtually no other information on Matthias Mehne, I turned to my German friend, Peter Hanke, the “Wizard of Wolfsburg,” for help. (Figure 10) Peter did not disappoint. He found that Matthias’s father relocated to Gelsenkirchen, Germany in the federal state of North Rhine-Westphalia, approximately 500 miles directly west of Wrocław, Poland, probably before or after WWII; Eugen Mehne is listed in a 1955 Gelsenkirchen Address Book. (Figure 11) I would later learn Albert Eugen Mehne died in Gelsenkirchen in 1963. As for Matthias Mehne, Peter discovered that he was born in 1908, had supposedly died in 1960, and was also known as “M.E.W. Mehne.” Knowing Matthias had once lived in Berlin, I did an Internet search trying to confirm his death but came up empty.
Aware of the connection between the Mehne and Lasker families from before the war, I shifted my attention to researching Anita Lasker. Not surprisingly, given Anita’s incredible journey as a world-renowned cellist and Holocaust survivor, I uncovered a biography she wrote in 2000 entitled “Inherit the Truth” in which she acknowledged Walter Matthias Mehne’s courage on Kristallnacht, November 9-10, 1938. Quoting:
“. . .My father [Alfons Lasker] escaped arrest on that notorious Kristallnacht (night of the shattered glass), as it became known, on 9th November thanks to the courage of a great friend of ours, Walter Matthias Mehne, a violin-maker in Breslau. He was not a Jew, and he deliberately ignored the fact that the streets were crawling with members of the Gestapo looking for Jews. He climbed the stairs to our flat, took my father with him, and drove him around the town in his car for the rest of the day. He could easily have been stopped and found himself in an embarrassing and highly dangerous position. The courage of a man like Mehne is all the more noteworthy since he was a well-known figure in Breslau. His premises—it was a ‘father and son’ business—were situated on the first floor of a building on the Tauentzien Platz, right in the centre of town. It was at once recognizable from its red violin-shaped signs which hung in the windows. It was much more a meeting point for musicians than a mere shop, and a great many of those musicians were committed Nazis. Notwithstanding this, the Mehnes were steadfast in their refusal to hang up a picture of Hitler inside, although that was expected of every good citizen.
They also refused to hang out a swastika on the various ‘flag days.’ It all made them instantly suspect. But they would not yield an inch. They disapproved of what was happening and were not afraid to show it. Both father and son conducted themselves in a manner which can only be called exemplary. They were some Germans—sadly not enough of them—whose behavior was beyond reproach.
At that particular moment I was not at home but in Berlin, where I had been sent to study the cello. . .”
To some, Matthias Mehne’s actions on Kristallnacht may seem like a “little” gesture in the context of Edmund Burke’s quote cited at the outset of this post, but if other Germans had acted as heroically as Matthias Mehne acted who knows how many more Jews would have been saved from the Holocaust. Unquestionably, Matthias Mehne was a “silent hero” during the Nazi era.
In acknowledging Matthias Mehne’s courage, I was reminded of a visit my wife and I made to the “Munich Documentation Centre for the History of National Socialism.” The museum opened in 2015 as a place to learn about the crimes of the Nazi era and how Hitler’s party rose to power. It is built on the site of the Brown House, which was the Nazi’s Munich headquarters. In any case, there are many memorable pictures on display there, including one I will not forget. It shows an enormous crowd of people at a speech being delivered by Hitler all giving the Nazi or Sieg Heil salute except for one bold individual standing in this sea of ardent fascist supporters with his arms down. Bravery can be a lonely odyssey.
In researching this post. I stumbled upon an article from “The Observer,” dated the 9th of November 2013, marking the 75th anniversary of Kristallnacht. Entitled “Cellist’s tribute to the ‘unsung hero’ who saved his grandfather on Kristallnacht,” the article documents a friendship that remarkably continues today between the Mehne and Lasker-Wallfisch families. In 2013, the retired cellist Anita Lasker-Wallfisch joined her renowned cellist son, Raphael Wallfisch, in Austria to play an assortment of music that was regarded as taboo by the Nazis, ranging from Felix Mendelssohn to Erich Korngold; the selection of Vienna, Austria as the site of the concert was no accident because, as Anita said, “. . .Austria has been slower than Germany to come to terms with its part in the Nazi atrocities.” Incredibly, the program coordinator for the concert event was Bettina Mehne (Figure 12), Matthias Mehne’s daughter by his second marriage!
In the 2013 news article, Anita Lasker-Wallfisch acknowledged wanting the concert event to be a tribute to the “unsung hero” [Matthias Mehne] who protected her father on Kristallnacht. She is quoted: “Mehne did not flinch. He was very nice, a family friend, and was totally against the establishment. He didn’t even have a picture of Hitler in his lovely shop–a meeting place in Breslau—which everyone was supposed to have. His reaction that night was all the more remarkable because he was so well known in town.” As for Bettina Mehne, she grew up hearing the story of how her father had protected Anita’s father, Alfons Lasker, on Kristallnacht.
Thinking Bettina Mehne might have some prominence, I learned she is associated with an entity known as “Keynote Artist Management,” and found her email on their website. Hoping I might reach her and learn more about her father’s first wife, I sent her a note. Fortunately, my email caught Bettina’s attention and she graciously responded the following morning. She recognized Renate Bruck’s name and mentioned that Matthias had spoken highly of her. Bettina told me her father passed away in 1991, not in 1960 as I had been led to believe.
A “Vogelsdorff Family Tree” I found on ancestry claims Renate and Matthias Mehne got married in 1945; Vogelsdorff was Renate’s paternal grandmother’s surname so the source is credible. (Figure 13) Since Renate married her second husband in 1948, her marriage to Matthias Mehne would not have lasted long, a fact Bettina confirmed. According to Bettina, Renate and Matthias were engaged before the war. The German news article about Matthias states he was a prisoner of war in England. Bettina promised to ask her mother, still living, whether she might know more about her father’s first marriage and get back to me.
Given that Dr. Walter Bruck played the cello, it is likely he was acquainted with the Mehnes’ music store and would have met his daughter’s future first husband before he died in 1937. We may never know.
A potential future source of information about Renate’s life is her own diary that Dr. Walter Bruck’s twin granddaughters, Francesca and Michele Newman (Figure 14), incredibly just discovered and are sending me. Once translated, this should make for a fascinating read; I have recently learned from Renate’s lifelong friend Countess Ina Schaesberg (Figure 15) that Renate and her mother spent the entire war in Germany, not in England as I had initially surmised, in a building that survived Allied bombing. Since Renate was apparently engaged to Matthias Mehne before the war, the possibility exists that Renate and her mother lived with the Mehne family in Berlin during the war. Stay tuned!
In conclusion, I will simply say the fact that Renate Bruck’s first husband was alternately known as “Eugen Walter Mehne,” “Matthias Eugen Walter Mehne,” “M.E.W. Mehne,” and “Matthias Mehne” complicated my investigations.
REFERENCES
“Junger Meister des Geigenbaues.” Nacht-Despeche, 1950.
Almost immediately after publishing this post, I was rewarded with some new information.
I sent the link of my post to Ms. Bettina Mehne. The timing was fortuitous because she had just spoken with her mother in Berlin about Renate and Matthias. Sadly, while her mother could not add anything new, she reminded Bettina of two silver trinkets Matthias Mehne had received from Dr. Walter Bruck, along with a small silver goblet bearing Renate’s name, dated 1927. These items are now in Bettina’s possession, but it is her intention to give them to Renate’s twin daughters. I think this is very touching.
This indirectly answers another question I had, namely, whether Matthias ever met Dr. Walter Bruck. Walter died in 1937 when Renate was only 11 years old, clearly before Renate and Matthias became engaged. Possibly the trinkets were given to Matthias during professional dealings he had with Walter, or Matthias acquired the items from Renate after they got married. Regardless, it is remarkable that after all these years, these personal items will wind up with Walter’s descendants. I think this would make him happy.
Bettina also told me that none of her father’s family lived in Berlin during the war, so clearly Renate and her mother Johanna did not live with them at the time. It was only after the war when Renate and Matthias were married that all three briefly lived together.
My Blog post about Matthias Mehne caught the attention of Dr. Regina Stein (Figure 16), a provenance researcher (mostly for museums) in Berlin. Regina is currently doing a lot of research in Berlin address books. Voluntarily and generously, she searched through them for the violin maker Matthias Mehne, and put together two pages of address information for him for the years 1943-1990. Among the listings Regina found is one for Renate Mehne in a 1949 Berlin address book, shown living in the Wilmersdorf borough of Berlin at the same address as her husband. (Figures 17a-b) The 1949 address book listings must reflect the prior year’s residence because by late 1948 Renate was already married to her second husband and living in England.
As to the newspaper article about Matthias Mehne, Dr. Stein told me it comes from the “Nacht-Despeche,” an illustrated evening newspaper in Berlin that appeared from 1950 onwards. Regina thinks the article may have been published in 1950, but “after lockdown” will confirm this by consulting microfilm.
I cannot emphasize strongly enough how helpful and generous people whom I have never personally met have been in furthering my ancestral investigations. I am enormously grateful for their contributions and assistance.
Note: In this post, I explore and document the connection between my renowned ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck, and Germany’s last imperial family, that of Kaiser Wilhelm II.
When formulating my Blog posts, I am acutely aware I am writing about people connected to or associated with members of my family to whom most readers are unrelated. For this reason, I try and frame the stories within a broader historical and cultural context which may be of greater interest to subscribers. Even though many of the events I write about involve people who lived during the Nazi era, which narrowly includes the period from 1933 to 1945, I hope followers will agree this tragic period in history is endlessly fascinating and obviously transcends my own family’s stories.
In perusing the photos of the personal effects belonging to Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (Figure 1), my second cousin twice removed, given to me by Dr. Tilo Wahl, I came upon a surprising array of materials chronicling a friendship between Walter and the family of Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859-1941), Germany’s last emperor. I decided to investigate this connection by having the documentary evidence translated and researching when the bond may have begun and how long it continued. As readers will be able to judge for themselves, some of my findings are conjecture, others are more firmly grounded in the records I found.
Let me start by reviewing what I have been able to establish of Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck’s military service during WWI (Figure 2), at which time I surmise a relationship between Dr. Bruck and Kaiser Wilhelm II may have begun. According to contemporary newspaper accounts published in 1925 on Walter’s 25th year anniversary as dental lecturer at the University of Breslau, “During WWI, from October 1914 to August 1917, Walter headed a dental department at the fortress hospital in Breslau, and in 1917 went to Bucharest, where he worked as a consulting dentist for the Romanian military administration and later in the same capacity worked at the high command of the so-called von Mackensen Army Group.” Multiple photographs from Walter personal papers confirm his presence on the Eastern Front during WWI (Figures 3-4) and show him socializing with members of Germany’s high command.
There is a suggestive account in one of the articles I translated as to Walter’s administrative acumen and dental skills which may explain how he came to the attention of upper echelon German military officers and the German Kaiser, “If the suggestions made by Walter in his writings as early as 1900 had succeeded, things would have been better at the beginning of the war for the dental supply of our army. For three years in a large dental department in the Wroclaw hospital, Bruck was able to prove that dental care, as he always thought it should be provided, can be carried out very well.”
Another quote from a contemporary news account alludes to Walter’s cutting-edge dental practices, “He [the speaker] particularly emphasized his [Walter’s] contribution to the introduction of porcelain filling and mentioned that the book Bruck wrote about it had been translated into Russian and English. The speaker also remembered Bruck’s numerous efforts to introduce dental care in the army, including oral hygiene, and mentioned that one of his works had been translated into no less than eight languages. Prof. Euler also mentioned that Bruck had been active as a writer in other fields such as prosthetics and dentistry with success and announced that he intended to hold lectures in the future in the fields of social dentistry and the history of dentistry.” Sadly, I know, from having visited a museum exhibit in Essen, Germany, that the horrific injuries sustained by soldiers during WWI led to the development of advanced prosthetics and facial and maxillary reconstructions following the war.
Regardless of when Dr. Bruck’s dental skills came to the attention of the German government and military command, he would certainly have been known to them because he was at the forefront of his field and in demand.
Let me tell readers a little about Walter’s personal life. In researching when and where Walter’s older sister, Margarethe Prausnitz née Bruck (Figure 5), was born and died, I found an ancestral tree showing Walter had been married before he married Johanna Bruck née Gräbsch, the mother of his two children. This came as quite a surprise to me. According to this source, the name of Walter’s first wife was purportedly Margarethe STUTSCH.
I have repeatedly told readers that unless I can locate primary source documents, I am hesitant to believe what I find in other people’s trees. Case in point. While I was eventually able to confirm Walter had indeed previously been married, I learned his first wife’s maiden name was SKUTSCH not Stutsch, complicating my search. Sadly, I found that Margarethe Skutsch, born the same month and year as Walter, was murdered in Theresienstadt in 1942.
I unearthed two primary source documents confirming Margarethe’s connection to Walter Bruck. The first was her Theresienstadt death certificate (Figure 6), very rarely completed post-mortem for Jews who died there, giving her married name. The second was the 1907 death certificate for Margarethe’s mother, Berta Skutsch née Grosser, at which Walter was a witness. (Figure 7) A picture from around 1917 shows Margarethe and Walter seated at an outside picnic table with the Grand Duke of Oldenburg and his wife (Figure 8), indicating they were still married at the time. Walter’s biography which abruptly ends around 1894-94 gives no indication he was married before he left for America to attend the Baltimore College of Dental Surgery, so the duration of his first marriage is unknown.
Let me briefly digress and tell readers a few relevant facts about Kaiser Wilhelm II to provide context for some of the documents and photos found among Dr. Walter Bruck’s papers. Wilhelm II reigned as the German Emperor from the 15th of June 1888 until he was forced to abdicate on the 9th of November 1918, following some crushing defeats on the Western Front during WWI that led to the collapse of Germany’s war efforts. Following his abdication, on the 10th of November, Wilhelm went into exile in the Netherlands, which had remained neutral throughout WWI. He purchased a country house in the municipality of Doorn, known as Huis Doorn, and moved there in May 1920. This was to be his home for the remainder of his life.
Wilhelm was first married in February 1881 to Princess Augusta Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein, with whom he had seven children. She died in April 1921. The following year Wilhelm met Princess Hermine Reuß of Greiz. It happened when one of her sons sent birthday wishes in January of 1922 to the exiled German Emperor Wilhelm II, who then invited the boy and his mother to Huis Doorn. Wilhelm found Hermine extremely attractive, greatly enjoyed her company, and found they had much in common, both having been recently widowed. By November 1922, they got married in Doorn over the objections of Wilhelm’s monarchist supporters and children.
I will briefly return to Wilhelm and Hermine later. First, however, I want to mention a few vital events in the lives of Walter and his second wife, Johanna Bruck née Gräbsch. Then, I will discuss the documents and photos among Walter’s personal effects that establish there existed a bond between he and the last German monarch and his family.
Dr. Walter Bruck married his second wife, Johanna Bruck née Gräbsch, on the 22nd of December 1922. On the 18th of January 1924, Johanna gave birth to their first daughter who sadly passed away less than two months later, on the 10th of March. This daughter was named Hermine, and it is believed and reasonable to assume she was named after Kaiser Wilhelm II’s second wife.
Walter and Johanna’s second daughter, Renate Stephanie Gertrude Bruck (Figure 9), was born on the 16th of June 1926. Among the personnel effects belonging to Walter that Dr. Tilo Wahl acquired from Walter’s grandson is a children’s book, entitled “Alpenblumenmärchen” (Alpine Flower Fairy Tales) by Ernst Kreidolf. The book was given to Renate by Princess Hermine Reuß with the dedication: “Meinem lieben Renatchen/zu Weihnachten 1928/Hermine” (i.e., To my dear Renatchen/for Christmas 1928/Hermine). (Figures 10a-b)
Other documents and photos pre-dating 1928 prove an earlier connection between Wilhelm and Walter’s families. Dr. Wahl purchased two of Walter’s guest books where visitors signed, dated, and often left personal messages upon their departure from Walter’s stately home at Kaiser Wilhelm Platz 17 (later Reichpräsidentenplatz/Hindenburg Platz). (Figure 11) In carefully perusing these guest registers, I noticed that “Hermine Kaiserin (Empress) Wilhlem II” signed one of them on “23 IV 23” (23rd April 1923). (Figures 12a-b)
On Dr. Bruck’s 25th year anniversary as dental lecturer at the University of Breslau, the former Kaiser sent a personal congratulatory “Brieftelegramm” (i.e., mail telegram) on the 14th of February (Figures 13a-d), followed by a personal note from Empress Hermine on the actual date of the event, the 25th of February 1925. (Figures 14a-d) The latter message naturally acknowledged Walter Bruck’s lengthy tenure, but also indicated an intent to come to Silesia for dental treatment.
It is not clear whether Walter was also Wilhelm’s personal dentist though this is a reasonable assumption. An entire page of photos in Walter’s scrap book indicates Walter and Johanna visited the Emperor and Empress at Huis Doorn in September 1925 (Figure 15), possibly to attend to Wilhelm’s dental needs. During this visit Walter took a photo of his wife Johanna surrounded by Wilhelm, Hermine Reuß, two of Hermine’s daughters, Princess Henriette of Schönaich-Carolath and Princess Hermine Caroline of Schönaich-Carolath, Major General Konrad Wilhelm Gustav Hermann Graf Finck von Finckenstein (1862 – 1939), and others. (Figures 16a-b, 17)
Another brief digression. For regular readers, I owe you a huge “Mea Culpa!” In Post 65, I tried to work out who was the unnamed Bruck standing amidst the Kaiser, Hermine Reuß, and their entourage. Several years ago, I obtained the identical picture, captioned otherwise, from a different branch of my extended family so never worked out that the “W.B.” who initialed the photo was Walter Bruck and that his wife was in the photo. (Figures 18a-c) In this instance my powers of deduction abjectly failed me.
From a brief note dated the 4th of October 1925 sent from Huis Doorn, Walter had obviously sent a copy of the aforementioned photo to Wilhelm because his staff acknowledged receipt of the picture and said His Majesty had found the photo to be “excellent.” (Figures 19a-b) As an aside and as mentioned in Post 99, I have shared images of all of Dr. Bruck’s personal papers and photos with Ms. Renata Wilkoszewska-Krakowska, Branch Manager of the Old Jewish Cemetery in Breslau where Walter’s father and grandfather are interred. Renata noted the high quality of Walter’s photographs so checked a publication mentioning Walter Bruck written by professor of dentistry at the University of Wrocław, Prof. Barbara Bruziewicz-Mikłaszewska, and learned he had run the Photography Department at the University of Breslau. My esteemed ancestor was indeed a man of eclectic interests.
It is unclear from Walter’s surviving papers how long the personal friendship between Kaiser Wilhelm’s family lasted nor how long he continued as Empress Hermine’s dentist before the rise of the National Socialists would have made this impossible. There is no indication in Walter’s personal biographical account that he was raised in a Jewish home; on the contrary, several passages from Walter’s memoir state he attended or was taught in Catholic or nondenominational schools and I have long suspected he converted to Christianity like many German Jews at the time did. As students of history know all too well, this would not have afforded him any protection in the Nazi era.
There is direct evidence the Nazis tried to remove Walter Bruck from his teaching post at the University of Breslau following their ascension to power in 1933. This proof does not come from Walter’s papers but from another source. I remind readers that in Post 99 I included a photo taken on the Eastern Front during WWI of Walter Bruck riding in an open car with General Field Marshall August von Mackensen and their respective wives. (Figure 20)
Dr. Tilo Wahl found the following passage in Mackensen’s biography, entitled “Zwischen Kaiser und ‘Führer’: Generalfeldmarschall August von Mackensen,” written by Theo Schwarzmüller, specifically discussing Walter Bruck and Mackensen’s intervention on his behalf:
GERMAN
“. . . An Rust (Anmerkung: preußischer Kultusminister) wandte sich Mackensen auch im Fall von Professor Walther Bruck aus Breslau, eine internationale Kapazität der Zahnmedizin. Wegen jüdischer Abstammung wurde ihm die Lehrbefugnis entzogen, obwohl er sie seit Kaisers Zeiten besaß und schon sein Vater an der Universität Breslau gelehrt hatte. Bruck war evangelisch getauft, christlich erzogen, “immer national” und als Arzt am AOK [=Armeeoberkommando] Mackensen ausgezeichnet, wie er hilfesuchend versicherte. Zunächst lehnte Rust unter Hinweis auf die Gesetze ab, wonach Juden keine Beamten mehr sein dürften. Allerdings galten für Kriegsteilnehmer auf Wunsch Hindenburgs vorerst Ausnahmen. Nach “nochmaliger Prüfung” wurde nach mehreren Monaten Bruck die Lehrbefugnis wieder erteilt, was Mackensen ihm telegrafisch mitteilen konnte. Insgesamt verloren im Dritten Reich mehr als 1000 Hochschullehrer, vor allem Juden und Demokraten, ihre Stellung. Dadurch büßte Deutschland seine führende Position in den Naturwissenschaften ein. Auch der alte NS-Kämpfer Rust, von Hitler bald zum Reichsminister befördert, propagierte die arische Universität, was Gelehrte wie Albert Einstein und Fritz Haber vertrieb. Für Bruck engagierte sich Mackensen, weil dieser eine ihm nahe, deutschnationale Gesinnung vorweisen konnte.“
ENGLISH
“. . .Mackensen also turned to Rust [NOTE: Prussian Minister of Culture, Bernard Rust] in the case of Professor Walther Bruck from Breslau, an international authority in dentistry. Because of his Jewish descent, his teaching license was revoked, although he had held it since the time of the Kaiser and his father had already taught at the University of Breslau. Bruck had been baptized a Protestant, had been raised a Christian, had ‘always been national,’ and had distinguished himself as a physician at the AOK [NOTE: Army High Command] Mackensen, as he helpfully asserted. At first, Rust refused, citing the laws that Jews could no longer be civil servants. However, at Hindenburg’s [NOTE: German general and statesman Paul von Hindenburg] request, exceptions applied for the time being to war veterans. After ‘reconsideration,’ after several months, Bruck was again granted the teaching license, which Mackensen was able to inform him of by telegraph. In total, more than 1000 university professors, mainly Jews and democrats, lost their positions in the Third Reich. As a result, Germany forfeited its leading position in the natural sciences. Even the old Nazi fighter Rust, soon promoted to Reich Minister by Hitler, propagated the Aryan university, which drove away scholars such as Albert Einstein and Fritz Haber. Mackensen became involved with Bruck because the latter could demonstrate a German-national outlook close to his own.”
There is another astonishing document included among Walter’s personal papers that Dr. Tilo Wahl brought to my attention. It is a letter sent by the University of Breslau’s curator, “Der Kurator de Universität und der Technischen Hochschule” (the curator of the university and the technical college) to Walter, dated the 24th of April 1936. (Figures 21a-c) The curator revoked an earlier ruling declaring Walter was no longer a Professor which had effectively removed him from his teaching position. As Tilo aptly points out, humiliatingly, the letter is lacking any form of salutation.
Notwithstanding Walter’s ties to the former Kaiser, August von Mackensen, and other high-ranking German officials, there can be no doubt that Walter would have seen their interventions as anything other than a temporary reprieve from Nazi persecution. Given Kaiser Wilhelm and Kaiserin Hermine’s well-known anti-Semitic views, it is highly unlikely either would have interceded on Walter’s Bruck’s behalf had he lived beyond 1937 and been arrested or deported. Wilhelm held the Jews responsible for the two world wars. As to Wilhelm’s views on Nazism, he hoped the Nazis’ early successes would lead to the restoration of the Hohenzollern monarchy, with his eldest grandson as the fourth Kaiser. Hermine actively petitioned the Nazi government for this on her husband’s behalf. For his part Hitler felt nothing but contempt for Wilhelm, blaming him for Germany’s greatest defeat, and the petitions were ignored.
Notwithstanding his disdain for the Kaiser, Hitler was not averse to using the occasion of Wilhelm’s death on the 4th of June 1941 several weeks before the Axis invasion of the Soviet Union for political advantage. Hitler wanted to bring Wilhelm’s body back to Germany for burial to demonstrate to the Germans the direct descent of the Third Reich from the old German Empire. However, Wilhelm had made it clear that he did not want his body returned to Germany until the monarchy was restored, and his wishes were respected. However, Wilhelm’s request that the swastika and other Nazi regalia not be displayed at his funeral was ignored.
One final thought. Dr. Wahl purchased Walter’s appointment book from his grandson in 2013 and copied it for me. Walter’s calendar shows that in April 1937, the month following his death, Walter still had patients scheduled. (Figures 22a-b) Based on my own father’s experience in his dental practice in Tiegenhof [Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland], also in 1937, as the Nazis ramped up their anti-Jewish measures, his clients disappeared. I have no doubt Walter saw his once amazing life rapidly slipping away. Barring an unknown medical condition, I am more convinced than ever that Walter took his own life on the 31st of March 1937 to protect his wife and half-Jewish daughter. (Figure 23)
Note: Beginning with this post, I embark on a series of articles about my distinguished second cousin twice removed, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (1872-1937), and his family. By virtue of a fortuitous contact with a German doctor, Dr. Tilo Wahl (Figure 1), I obtained copies of hundreds of images of private papers, photos, and personal effects once belonging to Dr. Bruck. These items offer insights into my relative’s remarkable life including photos of people in my ancestral tree whose likenesses I never expected to find. In this and subsequent posts, I describe the circumstances by which Dr. Wahl obtained these things and some of what I have learned from them.
Increasingly, the inspiration for Blog posts comes from readers, typically from individuals descended from or acquainted with some of the people I have written about. This post stems from such an encounter and involves my renowned ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (Figure 2), formerly from Breslau, Germany [today: Wrocław, Poland]. Additionally, in recent days, I was contacted by Dr. Bruck’s twin granddaughters who I had not long ago learned had immigrated to Australia in the 1990’s but knew no way of contacting. Amazingly, they stumbled upon my Blog while I was in the midst of writing this post!
Ms. Madeleine Isenberg, my friend affiliated with the Jewish Genealogical Society of Los Angeles (JGSLA), once shared an article she wrote in 2012 for AVOTAYNU about helping a family decimated by the Holocaust reconstruct its history. As I was preparing this post, I recalled a quote from Madeleine’s article that seems relevant to this story on the nature of luck vs. fate: “Once I asked my cousin, the Chief Rabbi of England, Lord Jonathan Sacks, what he thinks about ‘coincidence versus beshert (predestination).’ His immediate response was, ‘There’s no such thing as coincidence, it’s all beshert.’” Another quote I have cited in previous posts by Branch Rickey, the former brainy General Manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers, may also be apt. He used to say, “Luck is the residue of design.” Regardless of whether the ensuing tale is the result of chance or destiny, a remarkable convergence of events resulted in learning about personal items once belonging to one of my ancestors and obtaining copies of all of them.
Let me provide some context. Dr. Walter Bruck (1872-1937) and I are second cousins twice removed. Walter’s grandfather, Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck (1813-1883), was my great-great-granduncle. Walter’s father was Dr. Julius Bruck (1840-1902), a noted dentist I wrote about in Post 68. Drs. Jonas and Julius Bruck and their respective wives, Rosalie Marle (1817-1890) and Bertha Vogelsdorff (1843-1917), are all interred in a restored tomb in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław, Poland. (Figures 3a-b)
Dr. Walter Bruck was married to a Johanna Elisabeth Margarethe Gräbsch (Figure 4), a non-Jew. Following Walter’s death in 1937, she remained with her half-Jewish daughter Renate Bruck in Breslau for a time until it became too dangerous in the era of the National Socialists. In Post 83, I described the great lengths to which I went to discover what happened to Johanna and Renate Bruck and eventually learned they immigrated to England and died there. It is not clear whether Johanna and Renate moved directly to England or relocated elsewhere to Germany first; I have found a fleeting reference whose source I can no longer recall suggesting they may first have lived in Erfurt, Germany in the state of Thuringia at the address Dammweg 9. (Figure 5)
Walter Bruck’s widow never remarried but through documents I obtained from the United Kingdom’s General Register Office and elsewhere, I learned she died in 1963 (Figure 6), and that Renate Bruck married three times and died in Ramsholt, Suffolk, England in 2013. (Figure 7) According to Renate’s death certificate, her son, Nicholas Francis David Newman, an offspring of Renate’s third marriage, was present when she died. Hoping to contact him, I scoured the GRO database, and sadly discovered he killed himself in 2015. His death certificate, which I also obtained (Figure 8), gives no indication he was ever married nor had any children. The trail thus ran cold, and I naturally assumed this would be the end of things. Good fortune would dictate otherwise.
Recently, through my Blog’s Webmail, I received an intriguing message from a German general practitioner named Dr. Tilo Wahl including several photographs. What promptly caught my attention were the attached pictures of Tilo Wahl sitting alongside Nicholas Newman (Figure 9), Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck’s grandson. Knowing Nicholas had committed suicide in 2015, I assumed these photos had to have been taken shortly before his death. After responding to Dr. Wahl, he would explain the circumstances of his meetup with Nicholas Newman eight years earlier.
Dr. Wahl is a member of the Association of Phaleristics. Unaware of what this term means, I learned it originates from the Greek mythological hero Phalerus (Greek: Phaleros) and the Latin phalera (“heroics”) and is an auxiliary science of history and numismatics which studies orders, fraternities, and award items, such as medals, ribbons, and other decorations. Tilo explained his interest in phaleristics stems from a childhood fascination with recent history and military history, which evolved into collecting Prussian decorations; later, his collecting interest expanded, and he began purchasing groups of awards belonging to individuals, which, in his words, convey a vivid personal history about the former owner.
It turns out that in around 2013, Tilo purchased at auction the medals once belonging to my distinguished ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck, from Walter’s grandson, Nicholas. Following the transaction, they met in person. To help provide context for the medals he had bought, Nicholas allowed Tilo to photograph many of Dr. Bruck’s personal papers and photographs and sold him other personal effects once belonging to his grandfather.
In the case of Dr. Bruck’s medals, it was clear to whom they originally belonged as they came with documentation. Tilo would later explain to me there exist old annual periodicals (e.g., “Handbuch für den Preußischen Hof und Staat” (a printed guide of the Royal Prussian court and administration); “Ranglisten der Königlich Preußischen Armee” (rank lists of the Prussian Army)) that were once published where persons in official positions and/or of higher rank were mentioned along with the decorations they were awarded. Clearly, for personalized medal groups Tilo purchases that come without attribution, these handbooks are most useful.
Once Tilo has the name of a person connected to a medal group in his collection, he tries to find out as much as possible about them, especially the circumstances under which the individual received the decorations. A collector friend of Tilo’s, knowing of his interest in the Bruck family, informed him of my Blog, and he contacted me through Webmail. This resulted in Dr. Wahl generously sharing with me hundreds of images of medals, papers, letters, telegrams, personal items, photographs, guest registers, etc. belonging to Dr. Bruck.
Among the items shared was a 19-page biography about Dr. Bruck’s ancestors and his early years. I enlisted the assistance of a German friend, Julia Drinnenberg, who recruited her brother-in-law to translate this typed document; I want to acknowledge Julia’s relative, Max Raimann, for his generous assistance translating Walter’s memoir. Unfortunately, the biography only goes as far as around 1894-1895 but it includes some entertaining snippets. It also has fleeting references to a few of Walter’s ancestors that provide a narrow firsthand account of mutual relatives about whom I knew little or nothing. Below I quote at length from his narrative and include a few parenthetical clarifications on some of what Walter reminisces about:
I was born on Sunday, the 4th of March 1872. I was the fourth of my parents’ children. At the time, my father was a private lecturer at the University of Breslau, where he later became the professor Dr. med Julius Bruck.(Figure 10) My mother was born Bertha Vogelsdorff. (Figure 11) At the time, we lived at Schweidnitzerstadtgraen 9, which is now the ‘Café Kaiserkrone.’
My eldest sister Gertrud died in infancy. My next sister was Margarethe. (Figure 12) She married Dr. Wilhelm Prausnitz (Figure 13), who was private lecturer in Munich. In this position he was awarded the ‘Pettenbkopferpreis’ for his research on the ability of rivers to cleanse themselves. He later became ‘Sanitätsrat’ [roughly translatable as ‘Medical Consultant’] and Director of the Hygienic Institute at the University of Graz [Austria].
I was the youngest child and want to describe my career. But first I would like to give some more information about the Bruck family. Our family lived for more than 200 years in Silesia. I was told that my great-grandfather owned a brewery. There were no further details that I could find out about him.
A brief footnote. Based on my knowledge of the Bruck family tree, I think Walter Bruck’s great-grandfather was Jacob Nathan Bruck (1770-1832), born in Pschow, Germany [today: Pszów, Poland] who died in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]. Jacob was married to Marianne Aufrecht, allegedly born in 1776, place unknown. Given my family’s connection to Ratibor and its association with the brewery and hospitality industries there, it is reasonable to assume these are Walter’s great-grandparents. Portraits of neither are known to exist.
Continuing.
However, I remember my grandfather on my father’s side [Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck] (Figure 15), though I was only eleven years old when he died. He was an excellent physician and dentist by the standard of the times. He published several scientific works, one of which was a textbook on dentistry which had already two editions. He was a leading figure in his field and was made a member of the Imperial Leopoldian-Carolingian Academy of Science in Halle (‘Kaiserlich Leopoldinisch-Carolinschen Akademie der Wissenschaften in Halle’), a special honor at the time.
Dr. Jonas Bruck’s brother, Dr. Moritz Bruck, worked as physician in Berlin and was the author of a book, ‘Über die Asiatisch Cholera’ (About the Asian Cholera).
Disappointingly, Walter Bruck makes no mention of my great-grandfather, Samuel Bruck (Figure 16), the middle brother of Dr. Moritz Bruck and Dr. Jonas Bruck. Samuel was originally a wood merchant before purchasing the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor in the mid-19th century, owned for three generations by my ancestors.
From the time of my grandfather all male members of the family turned to academic professions. This resulted through four generations in a desire for education that was a special mark of our family. With two exceptions, the female members of the family also married men with an academic education. This indicated a desire to continue living in the atmosphere in which they had been raised.
My father’s brothers should also be mentioned. Dr. Adalbert Bruck (Figure 17) was an ‘Amtsgerichsrat’ [Court Judge] and Professor Dr. jur. Felix Bruck (Figure 18) was a ‘Geheimer Justizrat’ [Privy Councilor of Justice].
About the family Vogelsdorff from which my mother is descended there is not much I can write. One of my mother’s brothers, Ludwig Vogelsdorff, acquired great wealth being a wholesaler in velvet, silks, and ribbons in Germany. As a result of inflation and the incompetence of his son and son-in-law there is not much left of the fortune.
My childhood passed like that of most children from our class. There is not much I can tell. I supposedly had a wet nurse who liked cheese and alcohol. This did not apparently have a lasting influence on me since I do not have a particular craving for cheese or alcohol. On the contrary, I have always been moderate as far as alcohol consumption.
I like to recall one episode from my earliest childhood that took place at the so-called summer camps (Sommerquartiere). We moved to the camps during the summers when it got warmer. I have two particularly vivid memories. One of them took place in the Parkstrasse that was owned by Herr Quickert. Around a yard were arranged small houses, opposite which stretched an old unkept garden. In this building, which survives today unchanged, we lived. On another occasion we lived on a plot of land close to the Fürstenbrücke (bridge) on a large plot of land. That plot belonged to the banker family Alexander who were friends of my parents. On the day of our move there, I gave my parents an unpleasant surprise by falling off a swing while they were unpacking. Being sick I had to be put to bed immediately. The Parkstrasse was connected to the town by a horse drawn tram.
There is another pleasant memory of my grandfather [Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck] I like to recall. After lunch he would visit my father Dr. Julius Bruck’s office on Schweidnitzerstrasse opposite the theater. My late brother [Friedrich Wilhelm Bruck] and I went to meet him on the esplanade. If we were on time, we were invited to the Viennese café on the corner of Taschenstrasse and Neue Gasse. It was owned by the Cloin brothers and was so far as I know the first Viennese café in Breslau.
My grandmother [Rosalie Marle] (Figure 20) came from the family Marle, a renowned family from Upper Silesia. I still vividly remember her slipping us sweet morsels to which she was also partial. My grandfather had to keep a strict diet due to his frequent and severe bouts of gout. My grandmother died suddenly at the Café Pupp in Karlsbad [then-Czechoslovakia], while there with my Uncle Felix to enjoy the waters.
My grandfather died in 1883. He had just turned 70. Every year he got from the warden of the esplanade the first chestnuts, an unfailing remedy against gout. He always carried them in his pocket.
After these first childhood years which passed without any remarkable events, ‘real life’ began.
School Years
I entered [school] at the then-popular ‘Wanckelsche Knabenschule’. . .The headmaster was Herr Beisenherz. It was tradition that before his birthday a collection of money was made from all the classes. The profit was used to increase the silver treasure of the family Beisenherz. In return we were treated to streusel cake and hot chocolate on his birthday.
After that period, I became a pupil at the ‘Königliches Freidrichsgymnasium,’ founded by Frederick the Great, which was situated in the Karlstrasse and had a second access from the Schlossplatz. This access was very convenient because it shortened the trip from our flat quite considerably. Also the Schlossplatz was a favorite battle ground for fights with the pupils from the Realgymnasium. Brawls between both parties took place there.
The Friedrichsgymnasium had always been the school of choice for the family Bruck. My father and his brothers went to school there, so it was taken for granted that me and my brother Fritz were going there too. The staff there was quite a queer mixture.
The form master’s name in my first year was initially called Inowrazler, later Inow, and by the time I became his pupil he was known as Jahnow. His son was an Air Force officer who was shot down during WWI. Then we had a Professor Scharnweber, who had already survived several strokes which should in fact have disqualified him from teaching. Then we had a Professor Hirsch with a body like a flagpole and reddish hair that reached nearly to his shoulders. He greased it flat to the sides of his head. He wore glasses that sat at the tip of his nose. He had protruding lips and you would hardly call him a beauty. He wore a winter coat over his vest in summer as well as in winter. When someone had not done his exercises properly, he called out, ‘Sit down, you get a Noll!’ (he wanted to say ‘Null’ or zero). Therefore we nicknamed him ‘Papa Noll.’ He lived with his family near the school. His short, fat wife was an English woman, who often treated us to her singing.
Then there was the limping Professor Menzel and a Professor Michael who always carried a bunch of keys in his hand. During lessons he often pressed clenched fists against the first pupil’s desk. This was an invitation for us to wet the outer edge of the desk with ink. Thus his fingers were always black at the end of the lesson.
In the first years of school I was a good student which delighted my parents and teachers. That changed and my grades diminished, so I was assigned a private tutor, candidate of medicine Leo Wolf. He later became a physician in Metz and after WWI moved to Wiesbaden. He was not a particularly gifted tutor, a fact I used to my advantage. He was lame and walked with a certain rhythm with a stick. When I was in my ‘study’ on the third floor and heard him coming up the stairs, I would climb on the tile stove. When he finally arrived, I started negotiations concerning my homework. I stayed upon the stove until he had met all my demands.
Because my tutor was a romantically minded man, we would read the classics together. I was so enamored of Körner and Schiller that I decided to become a poet too. I even wrote a drama, ‘The End of the Orsini,’ unfinished, which is regrettably lost to posterity. If I obtained an acceptable grade on tests at school, I could attend a performance of a classic play at the theater. The first drama I saw was ‘Zriny’ by Körner. I was so thrilled by the performance I learned whole passages by heart. I can still recite them. My love for the German classics made me plan to study literature. Alas, that plan was never fulfilled.
I was made to dislike school because of the teachers, most of whom were old men, probably senile, who did not know how to kindle any interest in the subjects they were teaching. Thus, my grades slumped despite being gifted.
Before I continue describing my schooling, I would like to recount a little episode which happened during my fifth form in school. An eclipse was expected. Our class was to watch it from Crossen an der Oder, the town where my mathematics teacher was born. My father had given me a gold ten-mark coin. I spent some of it on several glasses of Kümmel (a caraway seed brandy) in a shop opposite the hotel. I must have arrived home in not quite a sober state. In the morning I turned up to watch the eclipse in my brand-new summer coat. Because of the overcast weather we did not get to see much of the eclipse. I was somewhat apprehensive about the reception at home because my coat had been stolen. Against all expectations my parents made light of the affair. When the garment turned up again, the good atmosphere at home was restored. A boy waiter at the hotel had stolen the coat when he noticed I was not quite sober.
Music was important in my parents’ home. My father played the organ quite masterfully. So it was destined I would play an instrument, the violin. At the time in Breslau there existed a music school, von Henschel in the Büttnerstrasse, where I was to learn the basics of playing a violin. It remained at the basics because playing the violin was just not my cup of tea. So I started to take cello lessons. My late brother had played the cello, so there was no need to buy a new instrument. Lessons were given by the then very popular cellist Heyer, with whom I took lessons until he hit me across my fingers with the cello bow. My next teacher was the first cellist of the Breslauer Ochesterverein Josel Melzer, with whom I made great progress and achieved acceptable ability.
My preference for German literature was promoted through a reading circle, where we read the classics with each person reciting a different role. We met each Sunday. The members of this circle have in large part been very successful in life. Fritz Gradenwitz became mayor in Kiel, Victor Loewe ‘archivrat’ (Keeper of the State Archive) in Breslau, Walther Freund the head physician of the Breslau Hospital for Infants, Fritz Leppman ‘medizinalrat’ (medical officer) in Berlin and Fritz Juliusburg Professor.
We would convene meetings in ‘Frey’schen Garten’ on Breiten Strasse. Participants included Christian Morganstern, Friedrich Kayseler, and occasionally Otfried Förster, the neurologist who later achieved international fame.
These glorious times ended abruptly when my grades fell through the pastimes my father characterized as ‘shenanigans.’ I was sent to live with my father’s former house tutor, Oberlehrer Bernhardt, in Striegau [32 miles west of Breslau] in 1887. I can still clearly remember my arrival in this beautifully situated town. On a sunny January Sunday it was bitterly cold, and an old-fashioned vehicle brought me and my parents to the house of the coppersmith Rückert on Jauerstrasse. The family Bernhardt lived on the first floor. With trepidation I accompanied my parents to the railway station, and I was left in a strange town.
Bernhardt was a great man, gifted as a poet, jovial, and an unparalleled educator. I followed him with all the enthusiasm of a 15-year-old, and we became the best of friends notwithstanding the large difference in age. As his wife was a high-minded person who made his life difficult, he seemed to enjoy my company. We went for long walks, made occasional detours to ‘Mutter Katzler,’ which his wife was not to know about. There we ate a big chunk of garlic sausage. Our walks usually ended at his local tavern as he was not averse to alcohol.
While I did not exactly harvest laurels in Breslau, I became quite a good student in Striegau, where the standards were not as exacting. The headmaster of the Progymnasium favored me and held me up especially in German language as a quintessential student. He was particularly taken with my ‘Lesetagebuch’ (a reading diary as a method of promoting reading) in which I entered quotations from the classics. And the poor, and in part dull, Striegauer students had to keep such a diary as well. But as they were not sure the purpose of a quotation these diaries often were unintentionally comical.
My cello playing continued in Striegau. The Kantor of the Catholic Church, a friendly old gentleman, gave me lessons. Alas, my stay in Striegau was only of a short duration. As the school was a Progymnasium, it did not have the last two years of a Gymnasium.
I next attended the Gymnasium in Jauer [39 miles west of Breslau]. My time there is not among my fondest memories though some amusing incidents took place. The headmaster was an excellent teacher though rather religious. Every day we had prayers before our lessons. Every fortnight we had to partake in a service in the beautiful old Friedenskirche. Overall he was quite a strange person. He kept a hedgehog as a pet. He still wore an upturned collar, which was kept in place by a tie, a long black frock coat, and wore his eyeglasses so he could peer over them at you.
The food was not very good, especially on Wednesdays, when ‘Bierfleisch’ (literally ‘beer meat’) was served. This was the mixed remains of the entire week, beer, beef tallow, etc. It was the fiendish invention of the Frau Direktor, the headmaster’s wife, and spread its undefinable odor in all rooms of the school. On Wednesday afternoon there were no lessons. To compensate for the dreadful meal, after lunch we headed straight for the baker von Fliegener on Marktstrasse for coffee and cakes. Near the station there was a pub where we played billiards and passed the time.
In our boarding house, it was a tradition to pilfer a bottle of ‘Haase-Exportbier’ every night. In the hall of the headmaster’s flat there was a cupboard with this noble beverage. We had a key to this cupboard, so naturally we helped ourselves.
Professor Armbuster, our Greek and German teacher, was a terrible person whose wrath I incurred. He resembled a faun [a man with a goat’s horns, legs, and tail] with a scraggly beard, who was squat of stature, had evil looking eyes and a monstrous mouth, and of course wore spectacles. He wanted to get his revenge on me for some misdemeanor I had committed during a Greek lesson. In the sixth form we had to deliver presentations of Greek texts in German. While translating Herodutus, I had used a cheat sheet from which I delivered my translation, unaware that Professor Armbuster had the same cheat sheet on his desk. As a punishment I was compelled to deliver an essay on a book by Herder that was completely incomprehensible for a sixth form student. The first difficulty was obtaining a copy of the book. With a lot of trouble I got it through the local bookstore. Professor Armbuster probably expected me to turn to him for advice on how to proceed but I refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead I produced such an idiotic essay my fellow students were hard put not to burst out laughing during my presentation. The whole performance was such a disaster, the professor chased me from the pulpit and was so mad I thought he would strangle me.
But my time in Jauer finally came to an end. By then I had given up the idea of studying literature and turned to studying dentistry. I had been encouraged by my father and grandfather. My father qualified as a professor with the later famous anatomist Waldeyer as a physician and dentist. In 1871 he became a private lecturer in dentistry at the medical department of the University of Breslau. With his own money he founded the first dental university institute in Germany. He supported it until it was nationalized in 1890. With nationalization, the teaching was divided into three parts. Professor Carl Partsch became the head of the surgical department. Dr. Wilhelm Sachs, an exceptionally capable and well-known dentist, became head of the division for conservation. And my father became head of the division for dental prosthesis. By then he had been promoted to full professor.
My father published a series of scientific essays which quickly earned him a reputation in professional circles. He invented the stomatoscope for examining oral cavities and the urethroscope for examining the bladder. In all standard textbooks on urology he is mentioned as a pioneer in this field.
The dental institute which for economic reasons was called ‘provisional’ was housed in unbelievably primitive rooms in a flat on Feldstrasse. The furniture consisted of the equipment from my father’s private practice, by far not up to date anymore, and old stuff the university wanted to get rid of. It stayed there from 1890 until 1901, when it was moved into the university’s former eye clinic. This is where it still is now (1936). In spite of the deficient accommodations a lot was achieved there, and I received an excellent education.
Sachs had good connections to Austria. Thus, many colleagues came to Breslau as the training of dentists in Austria left much to be desired. I got on quite well with Sachs. My undeniable manual dexterity piqued his interest, and I learned a lot from him. Later, we became good friends. For a short time I joined the ‘AkademmischZahnärztlichen Verein’ (Academic Dentists Club). But I did not feel comfortable there, so I resigned from the club.
Twice I took part in some academic fencing. Once I mauled a chap named Levin quite badly while I did not even get a scratch, a feat known as ‘unberücht abstehen’ (stab untouched). In another encounter with a student named Ziegel from Görlitz I was scarred on the forehead.
On the 30th of November 1892 I passed my state examination in dentistry with the grade ‘gut’ (good). While studying I did not have much fun. My father insisted strictly that I occupy myself either as observer in his surgery or work in the laboratory. This I had to do everyday after working in the clinic of Carl Partsch which took place in the morning. It got much worse after I passed my exam for which I am grateful to this day.
Following my exam I worked in my father’s clinic until I was called up for military service. This was a one-year enlistment that began on the 1st of October 1893. I joined the artillery regiment von Peucker. We lived in the barracks in a house [in Breslau] on a corner, first with the widow Zeidler and later one floor below with the widow Mischke. I quite enjoyed a soldier’s freedom of life. The first battery to which I was assigned enjoyed a great reputation. The commander, Hauptmann Braune, was a benevolent superior with a gigantic mustache. Though I would not claim special soldierly merits my equestrian abilities must have been satisfactory, as I was selected as so called ‘Teten’Reiter’ (head rider), an important position in my company. At the time, I became a private first class. On the 1st of July I was promoted to sergeant. It was with great pride that I carried the golden insignia on my collar and cuffs walking down the Schweidnitzerstrasse. My promotion to sergeant marked the end of my military career.
After my year of military service, I returned to work in my father’s practice, and diligently learned English. Because of the advances of American dentistry, my father wanted to send me to America for further education. My English tutor, Mr. Dance, equipped me with a good mastery of the English language. With the aid of a warehouse catalog, he taught me the names of all objects depicted. The ‘Baltimore College of Dental Surgery’ was the oldest institution of its kind and considered to be the best. It was decided that I would take a postgraduate course there.
Regrettably, Dr. Walter Bruck’s biography abruptly ends here. I have quoted at length from his memoir for several reasons. Rarely do I come across my ancestors’ firsthand accounts of their lives, so Walter can assuredly much better relate his personal story than I can. His academic grounding in literature imbue his accounts with levity and amusement, even though much is likely lost in translation. Walter comes across as a gentleman with a pleasant, waggish humor. His accomplished father and grandfather were clearly influential in Walter deciding to become a dentist rather than study literature. Finally, his encounters with renowned academicians and fellow students who would later go on to become very accomplished highlight the intellectual milieu in which he grew up and was educated.
As mentioned, Dr. Wahl sent me dozens of images of papers, news articles, and photos from Dr. Bruck’s personal effects that shed further light on his life. February 28, 1925 marked the 25th anniversary of Walter’s appointment as lecturer in dentistry at the University of Breslau and at the same time his resignation from the position as head of the department at the Dental Institute. On this occasion, a celebration took place lecture hall of the Dental Institute to mark Dr. Bruck’s tenure and many accomplishments.
His photo album include dozens of telegrams, letters, and personal notes Walter received marking the “Dozenten Jubiläum,” lecturer’s anniversary. His scrap book also contains contemporary newspaper accounts of the event that provide a chronology of major events in his life. (Figure 21) Walter obtained his license to practice dentistry in 1892, enrolled in the Baltimore College of Dental Surgery in 1895 where he obtained the degree of Doctor of Dentistry in 1896. In 1900 he succeeded his mentor Professor Wilhelm Sachs as teacher of dentistry and department head at the University of Breslau’s Dental Institute and became a member of the dental examination board. In 1908 he obtained the title “Professor” and in 1912 was awarded the silver medal by the Central Association of German dentists. During WWI, from October 1914 to August 1917, Walter headed a dental department at the fortress hospital in Breslau, and in 1917 went to Bucharest, where he worked as a consulting dentist for the Romanian military administration (Figures 22a-c) and later in the same capacity worked at the high command of the so-called von Mackensen Army Group. (Figure 23) In 1919, he became a member of the commission for the dental doctoral examination board, and in 1920 received his PhD. in medicine. In 1921, he received the lofty title of “extraordinary Professor,” then from October 1923 to October 1924 he was the Deputy Directory of the Dental Institute at Breslau University.
As mentioned, Walter’s “Jubiläum” took place in 1925 but no newspaper accounts postdate this time than can inform us about his later life. Some materials exist from which inferences can be drawn, but, in the interest of abbreviating what is already a lengthy post, I will tell more of Walter Bruck’s personal life in future publications. However, a few other things are worth mentioning here.
During Dr. Wahl’s meetup with Nicholas Newman in 2013, he learned about and spoke to Renate’s best friend growing up, a German countess named Ina Gräfin von Schaesberg née Weinert (b. 19 Mar 1926, Breslau). Thinking I would be interested in speaking with her, Tilo called her and happily learned she is very much alive. Tilo put me in touch with Ina, and ever since we have had a very lively and productive exchange. (Figure 24) Like many Germans escaping the advancing Russians towards the end of WWII, Ina and her family were able to salvage very few mementos when they fled Breslau in 1945; however, among the items Ina managed to save are a few pictures of she and Renate Bruck as children, which Ina graciously shared with me. One was taken at Renate’s 10th birthday party on the 16th of June 1936. (Figure 25) Another, of the two of them performing in a school play, shows Ina dressed in black playing the role of a prince, and Renate dressed in white as a princess. (Figure 26)
Ina shared a particularly interesting rumor about Walter which I am inclined to believe is true. Walter died at the relatively young age of 65, and the scuttlebutt circulating at the time was that he committed suicide; he apparently did this to save his non-Jewish wife and half-Jewish daughter from being persecuted and/or murdered and having their property confiscated by the Nazis, a fate that inevitably awaited them. In future posts I will have more to say about Walter’s religious upbringing.
Towards the outset of this post, I mentioned to readers the coincidental email I received only this week from Nicholas Newman’s twin sisters after they stumbled on my Blog. I knew of their existence solely because Ina had mentioned them to me but had no expectation of finding them because they had immigrated to Australia in the 1990’s leaving no trace I could find. Ina could only recall their first names, Francesca and Michele. Regardless, as we speak, I am in the process of learning more about them as well as their grandfather from some of his memorabilia and dental equipment they retain; these may overlap with what Tilo already sent, assuming the twin girls inherited Nicholas’s belongings after he died. Almost immediately after hearing from Francesca and Michele Newman, I sent Ina an email letting her know. Like me, she was thrilled. She went to her photo album and retrieved some endearing images from October 1966 when Ina went with her two boys, Friedrich and Philipp, to visit Renate and her three children in Elstree, outside London. (Figure 25) Stay tuned for further developments!
Note: In this post I describe the chain of events that led me to learn about a Dr. Erich Bruck, a man with whom I share a surname. His picture was given to me more than five years ago with the question of whether we’re related. I didn’t know then and still don’t, although I know much more about the doctor and his family today as I will relate.
In my previous post, I told readers about the very distinctive picture I was handed in 2014 by Ms. Renata Wilkoszewska-Krakowska, Branch Manager, Museum of Cemetery Art (Old Jewish Cemetery, Branch of the City Museum of Wrocław), of a man named Dr. Erich Bruck, telling me he is buried there and asking whether I know anything about him or am related to him. The picture is memorable because, as readers can see for themselves, he is dressed in his German military uniform and is wearing an Iron Cross. (Figure 1) This is not a picture one forgets.
Fast forward. Recently, my 92-year old third cousin, Agnes Stieda née Vogel, mentioned my name and Blog to her 95-year old German friend with whom she communicates by “snail” mail. This friend originally hails from Breslau, Germany [today: Wrocław, Poland] and mentioned in passing to Agnes, that as a child living there, she was friends with the daughter of her dentist, a Dr. Bruck as it happens; the daughter’s name was “Putzi.” This Dr. Bruck taught at the University of Breslau until he was summarily dismissed in 1933 by the Nazi Regime, and eventually committed suicide around 1938. Agnes’s friend wondered whether I might be related to this Dr. Bruck, no forename provided. Knowing that multiple of my Bruck ancestors were doctors or dentists in Breslau or had trained there, including my Uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck, I Googled and checked MyHeritage for any Bruck relatives who might have been in the medical profession there. Imagine my surprise when multiple images of the identical photo I’d been given five years ago of Dr. Erich Bruck popped up on MyHeritage.
From MyHeritage, I was able to determine some vital events in Dr. Erich Bruck’s life, recreate three generations of his family tree, learn the fate of some of Erich’s immediate family, and even uncover photographs of his parents (Figure 2), wife, and three children. (Figures 3-4) (Interested readers will find a table at the end of this post with vital statistics of Dr. Erich Bruck’s immediate family.) As too often happens with Jewish families, I also discovered Erich’s wife, Adelheid Bruck née Oppe (Figure 5), as well as his sister, Liesebeth “Lilly” Bruck née Goldschmidt were both murdered in the Shoah. As for Dr. Erich Bruck, he was born on the 5th of April 1880 in Waldenburg, Germany (Figure 6) [today: Wałbrzych, Poland], and died on the 28th of April 1915 in France during WWI.
Having found new information and documents I thought Renata Wilkoszewska-Krakowska might be unaware of, I contacted her. We’d lost touch in the intervening years, but Renata remembered me. A few of the documents I uncovered were new but because she regularly conducts walking tours of the Old Jewish Cemetery, Renata naturally has made it her mission to acquaint herself with the Jews interred there and search out historic documents; additionally, much as I’ve done in researching some of my father’s family, friends, and acquaintances, Renata has sought and in some cases met descendants of these people. While much of our recent communications have centered on Dr. Erich Bruck, as I explained to readers in Post 68, I’ve helped track down where Dr. Julius Bruck’s daughter-in-law, Johanna M.S. Bruck née Graebsch, and granddaughter, Renate Bruck, alit in England after WWII; prior to my recent forensic work, neither Renata nor I had known whether either survived the war. Given the murderous rampage of the Nazis, it provides some comfort to know that some family ancestors somehow managed to survive the onslaught.
Not only have I been able to provide some new documents to Renata on Dr. Erich Bruck, but she has reciprocated with finds of her own. From MyHeritage, I was able to unearth a German WWI Casualty list showing Dr. Erich Bruck perished on the 28th of April 1915 (Figure 7), as well as a death announcement from a Breslau newspaper confirming this. (Figure 8) Renata explained that Dr. Erich Bruck had been a member of the medical section of the “Schlesische Gesellschaft für Vaterländische Cultur.” In the membership’s journal, “Jahres-Bericht der Schlesischen Gesellschaft für Vaterländische Cultur, Bd. 93-94,” covering years 1915-1916, Renata was able to locate Erich’s obituary explaining the circumstances of the doctor’s death. (Figures 9a-c) Contrary to my assumption that Dr. Bruck had been killed in combat, such was not the case. Instead, while riding a horse, Erich got caught on a telegraph wire resulting in an open wound that became infected and ultimately resulted in his death. Renate tracked down and gave me a copy of Dr. Bruck’s death certificate showing he perished at Château Parcien in France. (Figure 10)
On her walking tours, Renata almost always stops by the tombstone of Dr. Erich Bruck (Figure 11), using this as an opportunity to talk about the role of Jewish soldiers in WWI. As an interesting aside, Renata mentioned in passing another Jewish WWI victim interred in the Old Jewish Cemetery, a Lieutenant Georg Sternberg (Figure 12), whose tombstone is topped with a helmet (Figures 13a-b); he was killed in the Battle of Lens in 1917. (Figure 14) Renata said she’d been unable to find a photo or learn much about him. Curious whether I might be able to contribute something, I searched in MyHeritage and ancestry.com.
While I was unable to find a photo of Lt. Sternberg, I was able to find his name on a German WWI Casualty list (Figure 15) as I’d done for Dr. Erich Bruck. He was born on the 26th of March 1889 in Ostrowo, Germany [today: Ostrów Wielkopolski, Poland], and died on the 27th of August 1917 in Nord-Pas-de-Calais, France. Curiously, I discovered two different places where he was supposedly interred, the Langemark German Military Cemetery in West Flanders, Belgium (Figure 16), approximately 68 miles north of where he was killed, and, as expected, in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław. (Figure 17) Uncertain what to make of this discrepancy, I asked Renata what she thought. She provided a very reasonable and simple explanation. Since Lieutenant Sternberg was only 28 years of age when he was killed and his parents were still living at the time, it’s likely they requested that his remains be returned to Breslau for internment in the Jewish Cemetery.
As mentioned above, Erich’s wife and sister were both killed in the Holocaust. Renata was able to establish that Erich’s wife, Adelheid “Ada” Bruck, was deported on the 13th of April 1942 to the Izbica Ghetto. In 2018, on the 76th anniversary of Jew deportations from Breslau and Silesia, the City Museum of Wrocław, in collaboration with the “Schlesisches Museum zu Görlitz” and the Jewish community in Wrocław, unveiled a plaque marking the event. In the presence of descendants of the deportees, the ceremony took place at the Odertor Bahnhof, the railway station in Breslau from which transports to the concentration and death camps departed.
Renate has been able to locate and establish contact with surviving friends of at least one of Dr. Erich Bruck’s daughters, Erika Bruck (Figure 18), who emigrated to America in 1939 and passed away in New Hampshire on October 13, 2011 at 103! Following Erika’s death, her friends and former colleagues wrote a booklet of remembrances; Renata was able to obtain a copy of this document, which she generously shared with me. Erika’s two younger sisters, Elisabeth (Figure 19) and Gertrude (Figure 20) also survived the Holocaust.
It is not my intention to discuss the very rich and fulfilling life Erika led, but I want to highlight a little known, often overlooked, chapter in Holocaust history. By 1933, when the Nazis ascended to power, it quickly became apparent to many Jews, including Erika’s parents, it would no longer be safe for Jews in Germany and elsewhere in Europe. Quoting from the booklet about Erika on what was happening then: “At the time, the government of Turkey under the visionary leadership of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk invited many German and Austrian Jews to come to Turkey to help build the scientific, medical, and intellectual infrastructure of the new Turkish Republic. With her family’s urgent encouragement, Erika left Germany and resettled in Turkey in 1933, along with about 1000 other Jews. Before leaving her homeland, she was forced by German authorities to sign a declaration that she would never practice medicine in Germany because her Jewish heritage was unacceptable to the Nazi regime. Erika finally received her medical degree in 1935 in Istanbul. While in Istanbul, she worked at the Haseki Hospital, a government-run hospital which was primitive in most respects when Erika arrived.” Slowly, Erika brought the Haseki Hospital into the modern era.
After immigrating to America, Erika eventually became a pediatrician. She retained a very warm place in her heart for Turkey. Quoting from the booklet about her life: “Erika made regular visits to Turkey to visit old friends. For years after she settled in the U.S., Erika sponsored and trained medical residents from Turkey to repay the good turns done to her by the Turkish government. She retained a love of Turkey and a resolute devotion to the memory of Atatürk throughout her life.”
There is one interesting convergence I want to touch on. As previously mentioned, multiple members of my Bruck family were either doctors or dentists in Breslau or trained there. It just so happens that the subject of Renata Wilkoszewska-Krakowska’s PhD. dissertation, which she is currently writing, will be about Jewish professors from the second half of the 19th Century and early 20th Century who contributed to the development of the renowned medical and dental disciplines in Breslau in those years. Naturally, some of my Bruck relatives will be discussed, notably, Dr. Julius Bruck, Dr. Jonas Bruck, and Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck.
Finally, while I’ve not yet been able to determine how or whether Dr. Erich Bruck and I are related, there are two possible lineages to examine, obviously the Bruck patronymic, but also the Berliner matronymic, the maiden name of my grandmother, which is also the maiden name of Dr. Bruck’s mother, Clara Berliner.
REFERENCE
Jablonski, Nina. “Remembering Erika Bruck: April 5, 1908-October 13, 2011.”
Note: In this post, I talk about Dr. Julius Bruck, my first cousin three times removed, who laid the technical foundations for the development of modern endoscopy through his inventions of the stomatoscope and urethroscope.
I first heard about my distant and renowned ancestor, the dentist Dr. Julius Bruck (1840-1902) (Figure 1), from one of my German first cousins, probably in the 1990’s, when we initially met. I also learned he was buried in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland] (Figure 2), and that his grave still exists. At the time, I was unaware of any surviving tombs of Bruck ancestors, although in the years since I’ve discovered others. For reference, two quick points. First, Dr. Julius Bruck’s father was Dr. Jonas Bruck (Figure 3), himself a dentist, whom I introduced to readers in Post 60 as the precocious lad who attended Ratibor’s Gymnasium, high school, in 1819 in its inaugural year. Second, Dr. Julius Bruck was my first cousin thrice removed.
My wife Ann Finan can attest to the numerous cemeteries we’ve visited across Europe seeking discernible proof of my ancestors’ connections to different places. In 2014, during a lengthy 13-week trip exploring cities and towns between Poland and Spain associated with my family, we stopped in Wrocław, Poland and visited Dr. Julius Bruck’s tomb. A photo of the very distinguished dentist is featured on a panel at the entrance to the Old Jewish Cemetery, pinpointing his tomb, alongside other prominent Jews interred there. (Figures 4a-b) Upon touring Julius’ grave, my wife and I discovered he is interred alongside his father Dr. Jonas Bruck (1813-1883), and their respective wives, Rosalie Bruck née Marle (1817-1890) and Bertha Bruck née Vogelsdorff (1843-1917). (Figures 5a-b) At the time, the headstones had fallen into disrepair, although have subsequently been beautifully restored. As an aside, on ancestry.com, I even found Bertha Bruck’s death announcement. (Figure 6)
Seeking to learn more about Dr. Julius Bruck, beyond what is easily retrievable from a web search, I inquired with cemetery personnel and was introduced to the on-site Branch Manager, Museum of Cemetery Art (Old Jewish Museum), Ms. Renata Wilkoszewska-Krakowska. (Figure 7) I learned the Old Jewish Cemetery is a branch of the City Museum of Wrocław, and that Jews, obviously, are no longer interred there. Archivists and museum personnel are naturally curious and intrigued when some foreigner shows up asserting an ancestral connection to someone from their area, particularly when that individual was Jewish. Such was the case in this instance. While obtaining little new information about Dr. Julius Bruck, I’ve learned and explained to readers the value of developing local contacts, so I resolved to stay in touch with Renata. Before parting ways, Renata asked me whether I knew or was related to a Dr. Erich Bruck (Figure 8), also buried in the Old Jewish Cemetery, whose very distinctive picture she gave me a copy of. Beyond having a common surname, I conceded I had no knowledge of this individual. That was five years ago, but in the subsequent post, I will tell readers how I recently stumbled across information about this previously unknown Bruck.
Dr. Julius Bruck was born in Breslau on October 6, 1840 and died there on April 20, 1902. He studied dentistry and medicine at the universities of Breslau, Berlin, Bonn and Paris, and received his diploma as dentist from Berlin in 1858 and as Doctor of Medicine from Breslau University in 1866. In 1859, he became assistant to his father Dr. Jonas Bruck, and eventually succeeded him in his practice. In 1871 he was admitted to the faculty of Breslau University as privatdozent, university lecturer, receiving the honorary title of professor in 1891.
Not only was Dr. Julius Bruck one of the most famous dentists of his time, but he was also a fighter for dentists’ education and a very successful inventor. He gained prominence in the mid-1860’s for his inventions of the stomatoscope (i.e., an apparatus for illuminating the interior of the mouth to facilitate examination) (Figure 9) and the urethroscope (i.e., an instrument for viewing the interior of the urethra), both of which laid the technical foundations for the development of modern endoscopy. Through development of the stomatoscope, Julius applied the same successes that had been achieved for treatments of eye, ear, and larynx diseases to oral and dental diseases using better illumination. (Lutze 2017)
Julius Bruck produced light by using an exposed electrically heated platinum loop, which at the time was the most powerful light source known. He imagined the possibility of placing the source of light in the distal end of an instrument and invented a double glass tube with a water-cooling compartment. This water-cooled apparatus, or diaphanoscope (i.e., an instrument for illuminating the interior of a cavity to determine the translucency of its walls), could transilluminate the bladder by being inserted into the rectum or vagina. (Zajaczkowski & Zamann 2004)
Julius focused on the research of his father in the area of Galvanokaustik, electroplating. In layman’s terms, suffice it to say that, in medicine, electroplating is an operating method that uses galvanic current-generated annealing heat for surgical purposes which is particularly suited for operations in the mouth and rectum. For the first time, Julius used the platinum glow wire, 0.3 to 1 mm in thickness. Julius himself described this method as resulting in the teeth being full illuminated so they were almost translucent; this meant that dental decay and diseases of the mouth could be detected that were invisible to the naked eye. The urethroscope essentially allowed a similar method to be used to illuminate and detect diseases of the bladder.
As previously mentioned, following my and my wife’s visit to Wrocław in 2014, I stayed in periodic contact with Ms. Wilkoszewska-Krakowska. Then, in 2016, Renata sent several photos of the meticulous restoration the City Museum of Wrocław had recently completed of Dr. Julius Bruck and family’s headstones. (Figures 10a-b)
Renata and I have recently re-established contact following a lengthy hiatus. While the subject of our more recent communications has been mostly about Dr. Erich Bruck, who as mentioned will be the focus of the ensuing Blog post, we’ve also discussed the fate of Dr. Julius Bruck’s two granddaughters and daughter-in-law. Since Breslau’s Old Jewish Cemetery is a branch of Wrocław’s City Museum, Renata Wilkoszewska-Krakowska regularly conducts walking tours telling visitors what she’s learned about the Jews interred there and contacts she’s in some cases made with their descendants. (Figure 11)
Julius’s two granddaughters were named Hermine Bruck (1924-1924), who died in infancy, and Renate Bruck, born on the 16th of June 1926. A clue provided by one of my fourth cousins, more closely related to Julius and his son, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (1872-1937) (Figure 12), suggests Renate may have emigrated to England during or after WWII; I discovered a Renate Bruck listed in a Willesden, Middlesex, England marriage register, showing she had gotten married there to a man named Harry E. Graham in October, 1948. Uncertain whether this was Dr. Julius Bruck’s granddaughter, I ordered a copy of the marriage certificate from England’s General Register Office. It arrived only days ago, and the certificate confirms this is indeed the granddaughter of Dr. Julius Bruck and the surviving daughter of Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck. (Figure 13)
The marriage certificate provides additional names that has enabled me to partially work out vital events in Renate’s life. Renate’s full name was “Renate Stephanie Gertrude Bruck.” Not only is Renate’s husband’s full name shown, Henry Ernst Graham, but her future father-in-law’s name is also provided, Hermann Gradenwitz (1876-1940) (Figure 14); this confirms that Renate’s husband anglicized his name upon his arrival in England to “Graham.” Both Renate and her husband had previously been married, Renate to a man named Eugen Walter Mehne, and Harry to a woman named Ruth Philipsborn (1914-2003); Henry and his first wife Ruth, I later discovered, married in 1935 in London indicating Henry had already emigrated from Germany by this time. Renate and Henry were married in the presence of a Marie Luise Gradenwitz (1881-1955), whom I later confirmed was Henry’s mother, née Mugdan. Curiously, Hermann Gradenwitz is buried with a Leo Mugdan, possibly his brother-in-law, as readers may be able to detect from their headstone.
With new names in hand, I turned to ancestry.com and MyHeritage hoping to learn more about Renate and her family. Renate’s first husband, Eugen Walter Mehne, is initially listed in a 1908 Breslau Address Book showing he was an instrumentenmacher, an instrument maker (Figure 15); he is listed in a Breslau Address Book as late as 1939, and by then is a geigenbauer, violin maker. While I was unable to learn when or where Eugen was born or died, the fact that he was already in business in 1908, 18 years before Renate was even born, proves she married an older man. Similarly, her second husband, Harry Graham (aka Heinrich Gradenwitz), was significantly older when they married in 1948, he was 43 and she only 22. Harry, I discovered, was born on the 8th of November 1904 in Berlin, and died on the 7th of March 1959 in London.
I refer readers to Blog Post 101 in which I discuss in much more detail the Mehnes listed in the Breslau address books between 1908 and 1939. Suffice it to say, the Eugen Mehne listed as either an instrumentenmacher, an instrument maker, or geigenbauer, violin maker, between 1908 and 1934 is Albert Eugen Mehne, the father of Eugen Walter Mehne listed in 1935, 1936, and 1939 address books, identified as a geigenbauer or geigenbaumeister, master violin maker.
I found evidence of Renate’s third marriage in 1956 to a man named Gary Newman, thus before her second husband passed away in 1959. (Figure 16) A single reference indicates Renate died as Renate Newman on the 3rd of March 2013 in the United Kingdom.
To date, I’ve found no evidence that Renate ever had any children to continue Dr. Julius Bruck’s lineage. However, in the course of writing this Blog post, on MyHeritage, I just discovered that Renate’s mother, Johanna M. E. Bruck née Graebsch, whose fate was previously unknown to me, may also have emigrated to England. I last found evidence of her existence in a “1939 German Minority Census,” showing that she and Renate were registered as living in Breslau in May 1939 (Figure 17), a most dangerous time. I can find no indication she was murdered in the Holocaust, but the fleeting reference I just stumbled upon suggests she too emigrated to England and died there. As we speak, I’ve ordered the death certificate from the General Register Office for this Johanna Bruck to confirm my suspicion. Watch this space for an update.
REFERENCES
Lutze, Kay. “Und im Mund ward Licht!” Zahnärztliche Mitteilungen, Vol . 107, No. 18. 2017.
Zajaczkowski, Thaddaeus and Andreas Paul Zamann. “Julius Bruck (1840-1902) and his influence on the endoscopy of today.” World Journal of Urology, Vol. 22, Issue 4, August 2004: 293-303.
