Tarnopol 7 April 1943.
Before I leave this world, I want to leave behind a few lines to you, my loved ones. When this letter reaches you one day, I myself will no longer be there, nor will any of us. Our end is drawing near. One feels it, one knows it. Just like the innocent, defenceless Jews already executed, we are all condemned to death. In the very near future it will be our turn, as the small remainder left over from the mass murders. There is no way for us to escape this horrible, ghastly death.
At the very beginning (in June 1941) some 5000 men were killed, among them my husband. After six weeks, following a five-day search between the corpses, I found his body…
Since that day, life has ceased for me. Not even in my girlish dreams could I once have wished for a better and more faithful companion. I was only granted two years and two months of happiness. And now? Tired from so much searching among the bodies, one was ‘glad’ to have found his as well; are there words in which to express these torments?
Before I leave this world, I want to leave behind a few lines to you, my loved ones. When this letter reaches you one day, I myself will no longer be there, nor will any of us. Our end is drawing near. One feels it, one knows it. Just like the innocent, defenceless Jews already executed, we are all condemned to death. In the very near future it will be our turn, as the small remainder left over from the mass murders. There is no way for us to escape this horrible, ghastly death.
At the very beginning (in June 1941) some 5000 men were killed, among them my husband. After six weeks, following a five-day search between the corpses, I found his body…
Since that day, life has ceased for me. Not even in my girlish dreams could I once have wished for a better and more faithful companion. I was only granted two years and two months of happiness. And now? Tired from so much searching among the bodies, one was ‘glad’ to have found his as well; are there words in which to express these torments?
Tarnopol 26 April 1943.
I am still alive and I want to describe to you what happened from the 7th to this day. Now then, it is told that everyone’s turn comes up next. Galicia should be totally rid of Jews. After all, the ghetto is to be liquidated by the 1st of May. During the last days thousands have been shot. Meeting point was in our camp. Here the human victims are selected.
In Petrikow it looks like this: before the grave one is stripped naked, then forced to kneel down and wait for the shot. The victims stand in line and await their turn. Moreover, they have to sort the first, the executed, in their graves so that the space is used well and order prevails. The entire procedure does not take long. In half an hour the clothes of the executed return to the camp.
After the actions the Jewish council received a bill for 30,000 Zloty to pay for used bullets…
Why can we not cry, why can we not defend ourselves? How can one see so much innocent blood flow and say nothing, do nothing and await the same death oneself? We are compelled to go under so miserably, so pitilessly…
Do you think we want to end this way, die this way? No! No! Despite all these experiences. The urge for self-preservation has now often become greater, the will to live stronger, the closer death is. It is beyond comprehension.
I am still alive and I want to describe to you what happened from the 7th to this day. Now then, it is told that everyone’s turn comes up next. Galicia should be totally rid of Jews. After all, the ghetto is to be liquidated by the 1st of May. During the last days thousands have been shot. Meeting point was in our camp. Here the human victims are selected.
In Petrikow it looks like this: before the grave one is stripped naked, then forced to kneel down and wait for the shot. The victims stand in line and await their turn. Moreover, they have to sort the first, the executed, in their graves so that the space is used well and order prevails. The entire procedure does not take long. In half an hour the clothes of the executed return to the camp.
After the actions the Jewish council received a bill for 30,000 Zloty to pay for used bullets…
Why can we not cry, why can we not defend ourselves? How can one see so much innocent blood flow and say nothing, do nothing and await the same death oneself? We are compelled to go under so miserably, so pitilessly…
Do you think we want to end this way, die this way? No! No! Despite all these experiences. The urge for self-preservation has now often become greater, the will to live stronger, the closer death is. It is beyond comprehension.
BY ESTHER STAROBIN
The last letter my parents sent from the camps in France arrived in May 1942. My sister, Bertl, held on to this letter and the others from our parents for 68 years. When she came to live in Washington, DC, in 1947, the letters traveled with her. Bertl has held on to the letters through all her moves in the DC area.
In the late 1980s Bertl first mentioned the letters to my husband and me. After we had them translated, our extended family was able to read the letters and get some appreciation of the great sacrifice our parents made sending their five children to safety. All of my sisters and I have spoken publicly of our experience on the Kindertransport and have often shared excerpts from the letters when we speak. In fact, for a ceremony marking the 60th anniversary of the deportation of Jews from Baden, Germany, we carried the letters back with us to Adelsheim to share them with the community that was our home before the rise of Nazism.
Bertl and I have often discussed what should happen to these letters in the future. As old age descends, this has become more of a pressing issue. At one time, Bertl was going to hand the letters over to her son for safekeeping. Somehow this never actually happened. While the letters originally were sent to Bertl and our aunt, they were meant for all five of the Rosenfeld children.
A few weeks ago, Bertl told me that the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum was coming to Leisure World in Silver Spring, Maryland, to talk to survivors and to collect artifacts they wanted to donate. So Bertl made up her mind and requested my company when she met with the people from the Museum’s Collections department. Early on a Monday morning I drove out to join Bertl on this mission.
It was a difficult decision for her to give up the letters, her last remnant from our parents’ hands, in which our mother wrote, “Stay all well and let us hear some good news from you soon and we send your our dearest love and a thousand greetings.” And our father wrote, “My dear good children and Hanna: We hope to find you all well which is the case with us as far as our health is concerned even though the rest leaves a lot to be desired. We would all be very happy to hear what work you do and what you are doing all the time. Also more details of dear little Esther. Hopefully you are all very good and obey dear Hannah because the aunt really only wants your best. For today our best wishes and kisses.”
Now our parents become part of the larger picture of what life was like for the people who were victims of the Nazi regime. While we have copies of the letters, the originals will be available to all who want to learn about the people who lived and died during the Holocaust. My hope is that people who read the letters will realize our parents were ordinary people who had the same concerns and hopes for their children as all parents everywhere. I feel in some ways this is our final separation from our parents.
The last letter my parents sent from the camps in France arrived in May 1942. My sister, Bertl, held on to this letter and the others from our parents for 68 years. When she came to live in Washington, DC, in 1947, the letters traveled with her. Bertl has held on to the letters through all her moves in the DC area.
In the late 1980s Bertl first mentioned the letters to my husband and me. After we had them translated, our extended family was able to read the letters and get some appreciation of the great sacrifice our parents made sending their five children to safety. All of my sisters and I have spoken publicly of our experience on the Kindertransport and have often shared excerpts from the letters when we speak. In fact, for a ceremony marking the 60th anniversary of the deportation of Jews from Baden, Germany, we carried the letters back with us to Adelsheim to share them with the community that was our home before the rise of Nazism.
Bertl and I have often discussed what should happen to these letters in the future. As old age descends, this has become more of a pressing issue. At one time, Bertl was going to hand the letters over to her son for safekeeping. Somehow this never actually happened. While the letters originally were sent to Bertl and our aunt, they were meant for all five of the Rosenfeld children.
A few weeks ago, Bertl told me that the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum was coming to Leisure World in Silver Spring, Maryland, to talk to survivors and to collect artifacts they wanted to donate. So Bertl made up her mind and requested my company when she met with the people from the Museum’s Collections department. Early on a Monday morning I drove out to join Bertl on this mission.
It was a difficult decision for her to give up the letters, her last remnant from our parents’ hands, in which our mother wrote, “Stay all well and let us hear some good news from you soon and we send your our dearest love and a thousand greetings.” And our father wrote, “My dear good children and Hanna: We hope to find you all well which is the case with us as far as our health is concerned even though the rest leaves a lot to be desired. We would all be very happy to hear what work you do and what you are doing all the time. Also more details of dear little Esther. Hopefully you are all very good and obey dear Hannah because the aunt really only wants your best. For today our best wishes and kisses.”
Now our parents become part of the larger picture of what life was like for the people who were victims of the Nazi regime. While we have copies of the letters, the originals will be available to all who want to learn about the people who lived and died during the Holocaust. My hope is that people who read the letters will realize our parents were ordinary people who had the same concerns and hopes for their children as all parents everywhere. I feel in some ways this is our final separation from our parents.
Walldorf, November 21, 1938
My Dear Children,
So as to get this letter to reach the steamship on time, I've combined these lines to both of you. Despite all good intentions, I couldn't write any sooner and now it's late at night -- but I hope there is sufficient time to make it. I couldn't write to Kurt as much as usual either, because yesterday (Sunday) we were in Karlsruhe for a few hours and now I simply lack that time.
As long as you can see that we are OK, thank God, and besides, we trust our recent letter and card came into you possession. We missed your mail this week and presume that it's only a matter of lack of time on your part also.
We heard in Karlsruhe [at my father's brother Eugen's home] that Fred was able to talk to Trude [Fred, Eugen's son, was living in Buffalo; Trude, Fred's sister, was living in London] and we fervently hope that you, also, got some of that news. We really felt compelled to go to Karlsruhe, if for a short time, in order to have a real discussion with them. There was a lot to tell each other. They are in the fortunate position, if all goes well, to go to Trude in about 3 weeks. There, they will be able to stay for 4 weeks, after which they will continue their journey to the U.S.
I hope you'll be able to see them in New York on their arrival, also because I will send a number of things with them that are meant for you. Of course, we would much prefer to go with them. As much as it is to be wished for each individual that it should become possible to leave it is equally regretful for those who must stay behind. We wonder whether we'll ever be in that enviable position!
[Much of the rest of the letter describes plans various friends and relatives have for leaving Germany.]
Mother
My Dear Children,
So as to get this letter to reach the steamship on time, I've combined these lines to both of you. Despite all good intentions, I couldn't write any sooner and now it's late at night -- but I hope there is sufficient time to make it. I couldn't write to Kurt as much as usual either, because yesterday (Sunday) we were in Karlsruhe for a few hours and now I simply lack that time.
As long as you can see that we are OK, thank God, and besides, we trust our recent letter and card came into you possession. We missed your mail this week and presume that it's only a matter of lack of time on your part also.
We heard in Karlsruhe [at my father's brother Eugen's home] that Fred was able to talk to Trude [Fred, Eugen's son, was living in Buffalo; Trude, Fred's sister, was living in London] and we fervently hope that you, also, got some of that news. We really felt compelled to go to Karlsruhe, if for a short time, in order to have a real discussion with them. There was a lot to tell each other. They are in the fortunate position, if all goes well, to go to Trude in about 3 weeks. There, they will be able to stay for 4 weeks, after which they will continue their journey to the U.S.
I hope you'll be able to see them in New York on their arrival, also because I will send a number of things with them that are meant for you. Of course, we would much prefer to go with them. As much as it is to be wished for each individual that it should become possible to leave it is equally regretful for those who must stay behind. We wonder whether we'll ever be in that enviable position!
[Much of the rest of the letter describes plans various friends and relatives have for leaving Germany.]
Mother
Walldorf, Dec. 10, 1938
Dear Gerdi,
Although no news came from you this week, I do want to send you a few lines in order to report our well-being, so that you will not be agitated about us. On the other hand, we did have a post card from Max and Sue yesterday, from Kurt the usual letter, and from Aunt Carrie [a cousin, or second cousin of Father's who had been living in Buffalo since before the turn of the century] a very nice letter. It moves us, what empathy the latter shows for us and how actively she is trying to get all the relatives out of here.
Unfortunately things aren't moving that fast, however, even if you have the best of papers. At present, the [American] Consulate in Stuttgart is being besieged to such an extent that only those with a waiting number under 7000 are being admitted to the building. We, ourselves are no. 22, 345 and inasmuch as the consulate issues only 11,000 visas per year, you can figure for yourself how long it will take until we'll be asked to appear there. [It actually took more than two years.]
There remains only one other way out, i.e. that one does as Uncle Eugen did [obtain permission to spend the waiting period in another country]. For that one needs an additional guarantor, however, who would issue the documents for the country in question. I'm certain you'll try to achieve our leaving soonest, through all the appropriate authorities on your end.
We are eager to get your next letter and hope that you'll have received all our letters of the past few weeks by now. I hope that you are well and that everything is all right with you, always. Accept my most heartfelt greetings for today, from your
Father
Dear Gerdi,
Although no news came from you this week, I do want to send you a few lines in order to report our well-being, so that you will not be agitated about us. On the other hand, we did have a post card from Max and Sue yesterday, from Kurt the usual letter, and from Aunt Carrie [a cousin, or second cousin of Father's who had been living in Buffalo since before the turn of the century] a very nice letter. It moves us, what empathy the latter shows for us and how actively she is trying to get all the relatives out of here.
Unfortunately things aren't moving that fast, however, even if you have the best of papers. At present, the [American] Consulate in Stuttgart is being besieged to such an extent that only those with a waiting number under 7000 are being admitted to the building. We, ourselves are no. 22, 345 and inasmuch as the consulate issues only 11,000 visas per year, you can figure for yourself how long it will take until we'll be asked to appear there. [It actually took more than two years.]
There remains only one other way out, i.e. that one does as Uncle Eugen did [obtain permission to spend the waiting period in another country]. For that one needs an additional guarantor, however, who would issue the documents for the country in question. I'm certain you'll try to achieve our leaving soonest, through all the appropriate authorities on your end.
We are eager to get your next letter and hope that you'll have received all our letters of the past few weeks by now. I hope that you are well and that everything is all right with you, always. Accept my most heartfelt greetings for today, from your
Father