In
May of 1938, my family changed forever. I realize that we were blessed that no
one in my mother’s immediate family was murdered. We fared so much better than
millions of others. I get that. While ours is not a story of horrifying
proportions, it still is worthy of being told. It should never have happened. It should never be forgotten.
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| Paul - probably early 1901 |
My
grandfather, Paul Lichtenthal, was born on December 1, 1900 to hard-working
people. His father, Sigmund Lichtenthal was a hat-maker who
had come from Tarnopol, Poland to Vienna, Austria. His mother, the former Rosa
Berger was from Budapest, Hungary. His younger sister Valerie was born in 1902.
The
family business, Lital grew to include 5 men’s hat stores, 3 shoe stores, and a
small men’s hat factory.
Paul
trained as a hat-maker himself and worked in the family business. On August 12,
1930 he married Rose Spiegel. His parents weren't fond of Rose and
her family, feeling they were “elitists” and not of the working class. On
March 5, 1932, Paul and Rose had their only child, a daughter (my mother)
Doris.
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| Undated - Paul is standing in the doorway to the right |
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| Paul and Rose - On holiday in 1937 |
They
worked hard but life was good. Residing with Rose’s mother in an upper-class
apartment, they lived a very comfortable lifestyle – good silver, linens,
servants, holiday trips several times a year.
Then,
one day in May of 1938 everything changed. I have a letter written by my
great-grandfather, Sigmund, detailing the events. He tells of Hitler’s men
coming to the factory and taken possession of everything the business owned.
The story of the business and of Sigmund’s attempts to get reparations for his
losses will be told at another time.
For
today, International Holocaust Remembrance Day, I wish to focus
on my grandfather’s personal tragedy.
The
following account was written by Paul Lichtenthal, most likely in 1957, just
two years before his death at age 58. I am surmising that the purpose of his
writing was to explain his desperate financial situation in an effort to gain
some reparation for his family’s losses. There must have been some type of
format he was following, as the “sworn explanation” was organized by
“questions.” However, I have not been able to locate the questions to which he
was responding.
Note:
The following was translated (somewhat poorly) from German. My grandfather’s
words are in italics.
Sworn
Explanation
Question
1
I was arrested at the
end of May 1938 and after 3 days removed to Dachau. I was there until the
end of September and then sent to Buchenwald. On February 11, 1939, I was
dismissed and returned to Vienna on February 12.
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| Source: http://www.scrapbookpages.com/DachauScrapbook/KZDachau/DachauLife4.html |
Question
2
Telling about all the
abuse during this time would fill a book. I believe that many abuses during
that time of mental obfuscation cannot be retrieved.
On the trip to Dachau
from 3:00 p.m. until 5:00 the next afternoon, we did not receive any water nor
bread. Nor were we allowed other human necessities. Victims of this
chicanery were struck pitiless. Out of 750 persons, 12 died on the way to
Dachau. My left hand was hurt and the scar is still visible today. The dead
ones were laid out before us and counted. I was forced to look into the
electric light for hours. My sight has always been weakened since this time.
In Dachau, I had to
break the earth with shovels. The work had to be done very fast and many
collapsed. Cold water was used to revive them. I was not an exception. On 2
days which I could not forget, the 12th and 13th of July, I worked on
a soil compactor. I twice simply collapsed in the ditch. I was left to lie
there and in the evening, after I had dragged myself back to camp, I felt I
could not survive. I owe my life to the foreman of the work detail who advised
me against orders not to show up the next day.
Incidents of this and
similar kind repeated themselves to the end of August. The guards would
intentionally fill up the wheelbarrow again as soon as we emptied. My heart
disease goes back to these days. These incidents were scarring. The climax came
when another prisoner and I were ordered to fill wheelbarrows with earth so
quickly that we would collapse. We were set up at ends of the “work station”
and had to truck it back and forth. If we did not finish at the right time we
were struck. After 4 hours, my fellow prisoner collapsed and died the same day.
Prisoners at
Work inside Dachau Concentration Camp in 1938
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| source: http://www.scrapbookpages.com/dachau/DachauWork2.html |
We were sent by railroad
cattle car from Dachau to Buchenwald. Conditions were the same as on the
transport from Vienna. I don’t know how many died then. I traveled in the dark
railroad cattle car with 79 other men and no water. Claustrophobia overcame me.
This caused great difficulty here in New York with the overcrowded underground [subway]. If the train fills too much, I break
into a cold sweat and must leave the train at the next station. Even all my
willpower does not help. Therefore, I must work outside of New York City, where
earnings are much less and jobs are harder to find and hold.
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| Source: http://www.yadvashem.org/odot_pdf/Microsoft%20Word%20-%206088.pdf |
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| 1938 Buchenwald Effects Card |
In Buchenwald, I, like
all the others had to suffer with the terrible cold weather and mismanagement
in the camp. While Dachau was well-organized regarding food and sanitation,
Buchenwald was terrible disorganized. Latrines were in the open and for the
night, 50 litre cans were placed into the rooms. Twice we had to spend the
night in the open camp because a prisoner had fled. It was at that time, 10
degrees below zero and many collapsed. They received the usual treatment as I
did as well. During the second night I suffered frostbite. It still plagues me
today, after 19 years, when the weather turns cold.
At one time, we
were ordered to be witnesses to a hanging. The man had no mask and to this day
I have nightmares. Regardless of whether it rains or snow, we were to start
work at 5 o’clock. I felled stones, carried stones and small pieces, work I
could not carry out. I spent many days with 3 other prisoners carrying bricks
for the building of a new barracks. In addition, I was troubled constantly by
my hernia. However, I was advised not to go to the hospital as few ever came
out alive. The dead were used for studies.
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Source: http://www.buchenwald.de/542/ |
To the right you see a replica of a cart as it was used for transporting stones from the quarry. The pole was used to punish prisoners. They were suspended from the pole with their hands tied behind their backs
Question
4 (there was no Question 3)
The aforementioned
incidents show which suffering I endured. My destroyed nerves go back to this
camp life. The hernia [was made worse] by the unaccustomed work and
my totally unfit physique. Accordingly, I am no longer able to do the kind of
work I did before, for more than a few hours. The frostbite and other problems
took months to clear up.
I am able to include two
passport pictures. One was taken by the Gestapo photographer in January 1939
and was officially used as my passport picture. The other I got in the former
passport office on Brown Street office just after the arrival of Hitler. The
difference is self-explanatory.
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| 1939 Paul's Passport |
Question
5
I
was unable to make sense of this sentence: “beantwortet sich selber aus
allem virgehenden”
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| A collection of notes sent by Paul from Dachau and Buchenwald. I plan to translate these and include them in a family history book. |
Question
6
The first physician in
the United States who treated me was Dr. Hans Freundlich, who speaks German. He
treated me for many months. I am certain he would gladly corroborate my
testimony. [lists
address of Dr. Freundlich in New Rochelle, NY] From 1940 on, I was treated
by Dr. Otto Braun here in New York. Dr. Braun was my physician in Vienna. Dr.
Braun returned to Vienna in 1957. [lists address of Dr.
Braun in Vienna]
That ends my grandfather's "testimony." He was
successful in receiving some reparations, not nearly enough to offset the debts
he and his wife had accumulated. Most of that money was sent to my grandmother
after Paul’s death in 1959. I don’t know if he was ever aware that his efforts
had, at least in a small way, had paid off.
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| 1959 - One of the last pictures I have of my grandfather. Here he is with my sister, Jeanne. |
Many years later, in
part thanks to my family’s proclivity for saving everything, I
successfully applied for and received additional funds from the Austrian government.
Paul Lichtenthal died on
August 28, 1959, from a heart attack suffered at work.
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