The Hours After

by Gerda Weissmann Klein

  As you know we docked in New York Harbor on the twenty-third, saw nothing but fog early in the day, then had to wait a considerable period of time until we could enter. Finally, at 1400 hours, we spotted the sight we had been dreaming about for so long: the Statue of Liberty, with the skyscrapers forming the backdrop. Boats carrying brass bands stood in readiness to give us a big welcome. There was a forest of waving arms, screaming, and general pandemonium. In passing each boat gave a blast of its siren by way of greeting. It all was a hellish noise, considering the multitude of ships in the harbor. Wherever you looked, from the pier, from buildings, from steamships, there were these huge Welcome! signs. All along the shore and from many windows people were waving. Truly a magnificent homecoming. We continued up the Hudson River, along all the familiar building outlines and landmarks, then farther upriver for about twenty miles. We couldn’t get our fill, noticing the most insignificant details, added to which was the colorful blaze of nature’s canvas amid the sweet scent of autumn in America. You have to take some deep breaths of air, and while savoring it, the thought slowly penetrates: I am home again! You see, New York will always symbolize America, although—or because—it stands unique among American cities.

  We docked toward evening, having gone through countless other manifestations of welcome, then consumed an enormous “reception meal.” By that time it was pretty late, and we were thoroughly tired, but despite that much too excited to turn in. We were promised a twelve-hour leave to see our next of kin, starting the following morning, which meant we could go to the New York City area for that relatively brief period, but as it turned out we all overstayed our leave and returned the next morning without dire consequences.

  Well, I can tell you, Gerda, it was thrilling. Although Gerdi was expecting me, she didn’t know it was going to be on that exact day, so that it did turn into a nice surprise. As you know I had not gotten any mail from her except the letter announcing baby Larry’s arrival. But everything had gone all right for both mother and son, and she feels quite normal again. I found her slightly older looking, but nearly unchanged. The baby is a lovable guy. They say he looks a little like my brother, which I can’t see.

  My niece, Barbara, and I became fast friends. She didn’t want to let go at all: a tremendous honor, I was told. She has turned into a pretty little thing and has grown immensely! But then, we all grow old! My brother-in-law, Gunther, got home rather late; meanwhile, my sister-in-law, Sue, also joined us for dinner, and we chatted and chatted. She doesn’t know yet when Max will get back. Wish you could have seen what a pleasant surprise our engagement triggered all around. They simply overwhelmed me with so many questions that it became impossible to answer everything in detail right then and there. They all expect to see you here soon, and countless welcomes and greetings were extended to you.

  Now to the main issue. Unfortunately no letters from you have arrived yet. I hope there’s no reason for it other than that you’ve continued to use my army address. What did reach me were two cables from your uncle, who acknowledged my letter that went via the States. He inquired how much money your emigration would require, because he could send it by way of Switzerland. The answer was prepaid, and the second cable was merely an inquiry as to whether the first one had reached me. I’ll wire the reason for the silence and will answer the financial question negatively. But do tell me what else you’d like your relatives to know, or enclose a letter, whichever you prefer.

  I just read that there is about to be a consul general in Munich, which comes as a big relief and should facilitate matters considerably. To get back to your uncle, I’m going to mail a letter to him tomorrow that will fully explain everything and will enclose yours.

  It looks as though I may have to sit around here for a while, although there’s a chance I’ll be discharged in a few days. Then I’ll be able to devote myself to the matter of your coming. I’ve made a few inquiries through my sister, and now we’ll have to see what else can be found out.

  Good night, darling—I love you!

  Kurt

  Fort Dix, N.J., October 27, 1945

  My beloved Gerda,

  The camp in which I’m staying for the purpose of separation from the service is much like a mill through which thousands of GIs of every description are being ground. This torrent has gotten hold of me as well and is irresistibly sweeping me along. Tonight the fun begins in earnest, after which it may go relatively fast. I feel terrible that I’ll have to neglect you a bit because of that, but I’m hoping you’ll close an eye to my omissions. The upcoming weeks should be tremendously busy ones, and whether I’ll get to write daily is in question. Can I count on you to not be angry, so that I’ll be able to sleep in peace?

  A cable, as well as your letter and mine, went out to your uncle. I wired him all about our engagement, and I’m told that the cable should get there within one to two days. It looks to me as if the exchange of correspondence will go a lot faster from now on.

  I did call Gerdi yesterday. She still had no mail from you. If only I had explained that to you more fully at the time. I don’t want to be unduly worried about you, but something should have reached me by now, unless you kept writing to the old address.

  How are things with you, my love? Is work still tolerable? If not, you ought to leave it without any worry whatsoever. After all, you don’t have to work. Do you have any fun at all from time to time? Do you still have visitors once in a while?

  A parcel, containing chocolate, a few cans, and other comestibles was dispatched to you, and I hope it’ll get there soon. Unfortunately we can’t send more than five pounds at one time, but I believe that will change soon.

  America is wonderful! I’ve come to appreciate it as never before, if that’s possible. You’ll be totally enthusiastic about it and I’m having a tremendous amount of fun speculating that I’ll soon be able to show you everything myself. Some of it seems like a new discovery to me as well. You sort of forget that certain things exist at all. It’ll be wonderful, Gerdush!

  With a thousand love-saturated kisses, I’m always your

  Kurt

  Munich, October 28, 1945

  My beloved Kurt,

  It’s Sunday, and I’m all alone during the hours we used to spend together, but I welcome the solitude. There are no intrusions on my thoughts, and I can communicate with you much better because of the quiet around me. How divine it would be if you were here.

  I was supposed to go to the theater tonight, but something went wrong about the tickets so I didn’t go. All the same I’m not in the least sorry. I would rather be with you anytime. I realize it may be unbecoming to be so open with my feelings; you might consider it gushing. Yet, in normal life most of us are with those we love. They are the people we trust, so there is no need constantly to remind them of our feelings.

  In our case our feelings toward each other remained unexpressed until the last two days, when you asked me to marry you and expressed your love and all that you felt for me. From that moment my life changed completely; the void and the loneliness were gone. You filled that emptiness and now I have you, one who cares, understands, and loves me as I love you and always will.

  There is something else that triggered this outburst that I should tell you about. I am very sad and upset, after seeing several girls who were with me in the camps. Their situation is abominable; they have no one. Some have found love, while others have plunged into marriages out of sheer loneliness and desperation. Often the fact that someone comes from the same town and knew part of your family provides the flimsiest of reasons to rush into a union, even on very short acquaintance. As one of them told me, “Of course I don’t love him; what is love, after all? Love was killed along with my parents. It’s better than being alone.” What will become of them? What can I say to them? Some are sick in mind as well as in body. It is so sad, but what can I do? Why am I so lucky? I know I was fortunate in loving my family, and in turn being loved by them; nothing can detract from that. But I love
you with a joyful intensity, a feeling that I never knew existed and that blots out so much pain. Thank you for being you.

  I love you,

  Gerda

  The perspective of the years has given me another view of what I once considered hasty marriages. I am embarrassed now by my impertinent, conceited, youthful view from my lofty, “all-knowing” perch—sitting in judgment of others, who I believed were entering “rash” marriages. I wonder whether others regarded me as having thrown myself into the arms of the first American who came along, but in my mind I felt that, naturally, Kurt and I were “different.”

  It gives me great pleasure to report that among the cases I know of, my friends’ marriages have well withstood the test of time—not one divorce among them. The return to normality for all of us was finding an anchor that would let us forge a future. For many, just meeting someone from their hometown who had known their families or could share some other common memory provided a base for beginning a new life. Above all there was a quest for companionship and for once again having a family. It seems that what we experienced let us gain a deeper appreciation for basic values in life.

  Fort Dix, N.J., October 28, 1945

  Gerda dearest,

  Today it’s three years since I’ve been in the army, and it was almost the day of my discharge. It’s going to take a little while longer, though, and so I went to New York for twenty-four hours, instead of squandering the time uselessly right here. That afforded the opportunity to discuss matters at greater length with Gerdi and Gunther.

  An article I read in the New York Times suggests that the opening of the American consulate in Munich can be expected soon. Meanwhile I was able to make inquiries in camp, which netted the following:

  As the fiancée of an American, you will be subject to the quota regulations. On the other hand, you will receive preferential treatment, as long as I declare that I’m going to marry you soon after your arrival. Marriage in absentia is not being recognized. It can be done, but it yields no advantages whatsoever in regard to immigration. The Polish quota will hardly be filled under the present conditions. I still want to explore that further with better-informed sources. At any rate I will issue the required affidavit, but it would be best if I could list having a job. Aside from that I was advised to have a relative issue an affidavit, which I will take care of once I get to Buffalo. No doubt it will take at least another two to three months until the consulate is fully operational. I plan to go to Buffalo during the next few weeks. Meanwhile I’ll inquire about a ship reservation. Perhaps they will accept applications, although I would guess civilian passage will not get underway before spring.

  Once the affidavits are verified, you’ll be able to apply for a quota number. But the simplest thing would be if you’d go to the consulate in person as soon as you hear that the affidavits have been approved. To avoid disappointments, I don’t want to get overly optimistic, but my guess is that we’ll have an exchange of correspondence with the consulate that will stretch well into the summer. I hope it won’t take that long; my main question is when can we count on halfway normal civilian ship crossings?

  At any rate that’s far too long, and I have a faint idea how you must feel about that. Every day without you by my side, Gerda, seems only half lived. We talked a great deal about you this evening, Gerdush, and I fashioned all sorts of plans regarding the type of position I’m going to look for, what sort of apartment would be right for us, etc. Gerdi and Gunther are getting to know you better each time I see them and are very happy with my choice. It’s a fact: The greatest dunces are usually blessed with most of the good luck!

  Regarding my separation from the service, everything has been fabulously well organized. We spend hour after hour filling out documents, often until well into the night. Nothing is as simple as it looks, because there are hundreds of different cases, and for each one a special regulation applies. As complicated as it is, everything is moving along pretty smoothly.

  Since I probably won’t get to any correspondence soon, take a double ration of my regards and kisses to last for two days. Regards also to all and do write soon.

  Kurt

  Fort Dix, N.J., October 30, 1945

  My dearest Gerda,

  Days go by without any news from you, and there are dozens of reasons why that should be so; yet I cannot fend off a slight concern. Well, the next time I’ll go see Gerdi something will be there for sure!

  This was the second time, then, that I had twenty-four hours in New York; now I’m back in camp to await my definite separation from service. I’m sitting in a rocking chair, taking in the surprisingly hot late-October sun. Meanwhile, I’ve made use of my free time to explore the matter of your immigration in greater detail. According to all I could find out so far, I’ve come to the conclusion that it would be best for you to remain in Munich to await the opening of the American consulate. I believe that, under the circumstances, going to Turkey will not be as simple as your continued stay in Germany. I know that won’t be very pleasant for you, to put it mildly, but it is the fastest way. Immediately after my discharge, I’ll go to Washington to find out more details. Then I’ll determine what papers will have to be sent to the State Department. I need to get more information on that. In the meantime I can also sound out the various steamship companies about whether tickets are already available. I assume that once you get that far, you’ll be leaving by way of Bremerhaven.

  Out of sheer curiosity, I conducted an experiment yesterday. I looked at the “Help Wanted” columns in the New York Times, just to find out what I can expect in the field of printing. The second company I spoke to was willing to hire me at fifty dollars a week. I can’t judge yet whether that would be a decent salary to begin with, because prices have changed so much since I left. The end of the war has not brought a reduction in the cost of living thus far; quite the contrary, you read about one strike after another because, no matter what their position, they all want to use the opportunity to maintain their level of salaries, which have shrunk considerably since the discontinuance of overtime.

  Quite aside from that, it’s no longer considered unpatriotic to go on strike, and so everybody is trying to make up for lost time. This, then, is the situation: On one hand, there are all these strikes because of the high cost of living. On the other, those prices will be with us for quite some time, because a great number of people really earned a lot of money during the war, and many items are still scarce and much in demand.

  Because I covered so much ground in the city, I was able to see again so many things that I appreciate about New York. When you go downtown, all you have to do is let yourself be swept along by the crowd, knowing that at every turn something new and interesting will greet you.

  Not far from where I was walking, a large crowd was gathering to listen to none other than Mrs. Roosevelt, or “Eleanor,” as she is known colloquially. And that’s a moniker that’s meant good-naturedly, affectionately, and not at all lacking in respect, as it may sound to you. She was touting the new “Victory Bonds,” and talked about the responsibilities inherent in peace. She spoke from a podium, behind which stood a replica of the Statue of Liberty. She is such a marvelous woman and keeps amazingly active. I was able to see and admire her from up close. I got a glimpse of the late president only once, for a brief moment, as he sped by in a car with Prime Minister Churchill.

  So much for today. Please do let me hear from you soon to reassure me that all is well with you.

  Regards to all acquaintances,

  Kurt

  Munich, October 31, 1945

  My dearest Kurt,

  At work today I couldn’t shake off a strange yet compelling thought. The entire building seems like a huge arena where a play is being performed on a continuous basis. It’s called “Letters That Never Arrive.” Seven hundred letters were brought to my section today, and I saw some of my coworkers glance at them in the most casual, superficial way, then toss them into bins marked “Release” or “Condemn
.”

  I always think of who might be waiting for a particular letter. What hope and anticipation go into their expectations? I know that some of these letters will never reach their destination. I’m having a hard time with that, but then I concentrate on those that contain joyous messages, think of the recipients, and that somehow eases my agonizing.

  My poor Kurt, I hope I’m not boring you with my endless tales. Sleep well. When you wake up tomorrow morning, I will have been thinking of you for more than six hours. Maybe I will have something more interesting to report by then.

  For me, another day has gone by, one day closer to being with you.

  I embrace you with much love,

  Gerda

  Munich, November 1, 1945

  Kurt, my beloved,

  I am so happy! Can you imagine the grin I broke into when your cable arrived? I flew from the first to the fifth floor, two steps at a time, to share the news with Mala!

  Kurt, I knew that today would be a very special day, that something extraordinary would happen. When I awoke and went to the window, I beheld an incredible sight. The sky was still quite dark, but a deep red horizontal line was trying to crack through the darkness. The band was widening, forcing the light upward over the pine trees, which stood like sentinels guarding some enchanted gate. Soon golden rays touched the pine tops, giving them an illusion of coronets. Then the darkness rolled back, the sun rose, bathing everything in a fresh pink-golden hue. A breathtaking dawn of a new day. I knew it was special, but could not imagine how special it would turn out to be and how symbolic. That new bright day brought the first greeting from you after you stepped onto the shore of America. Can you possibly comprehend how happy I am? How delighted that you are well, that you have escaped all the dangers of that horrible war, that bloody devastation and destruction, and that you have safely returned home! I wish I could embrace the entire world with joy and gratitude but, above all, put my arms around you.