A Train Near Magdeburg
Page 1
A Train
Near Magdeburg
A TEACHER’S JOURNEY
INTO THE HOLOCAUST
Matthew A. Rozell
Woodchuck Hollow Press
Hartford · New York
Copyright © 2016 by Matthew A. Rozell. Rev. 5.30.2018(GOK). All rights reserved. No original part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher. Grateful acknowledgement is made to the following authors for the use of edited excerpts of previously published material: Aliza Vitis-Shomron, Leslie Meisels, Fred Spiegel, and Peter Lantos. Please see author notes.
The conclusions reached in this work are solely those of the author and should not be attributed to any of the institutions mentioned in this book.
Information at woodchuckhollowpress@gmail.com.
Maps by Susan Winchell–Sweeney.
Front cover credit: Major Clarence L. Benjamin, 743rd Tank Battalion.
Back cover photo credits: Twilight Studios; Kris Dressen, SUNY Geneseo.
A Train Near Magdeburg: A Teacher’s Journey into the Holocaust/ Matthew A. Rozell. –– 1st ed.
Publisher's Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Rozell, Matthew A., 1961-
Title: A train near Magdeburg: a teacher's journey into the Holocaust, and the reuniting of the survivors and liberators, 70 years on / Matthew A. Rozell.
Description: Hartford, NY: Woodchuck Hollow Press, 2016. | Includes bibliographical references.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016912597 | ISBN 978-0-9964800-2-4 (paperback) | ISBN 978-0-9964800-3-1 (Kindle)
Subjects: LCSH: Holocaust survivors--Biography. | Holocaust, Jewish (1939-1945)--Germany--Biography. | Holocaust, Jewish (1939-1945)--Germany--Personal narratives. | World War, 1939-1945--Jews--Rescue--Germany. | World War, 1939-1945--Historiography. | BISAC: HISTORY / Holocaust. | HISTORY / Military / World War II.
Classification: LCC DS134.4 .R76 2016 (print) | LCC DS134.4 (ebook) | DDC 940.53/18092--dc23.
www.teachinghistorymatters.com
www.matthewrozell.com
Printed in the United States of America
A TRAIN NEAR MAGDEBURG
Battle-hardened veterans learn to contain their emotions, but it was difficult then, and I cry now to think about it. What stamina and regenerative spirit those brave people showed!
― GEORGE C. GROSS, LIBERATOR
Never in our training were we taught to be humanitarians. We were taught to be soldiers.
― FRANK W. TOWERS, LIBERATOR
[After I got home] I cried a lot. My parents couldn’t understand why I couldn’t sleep at times.
― WALTER ‘BABE’ GANTZ, US ARMY MEDIC
I cannot believe, today, that the world almost ignored those people and what was happening. How could we have all stood by and have let that happen? They do not owe us anything. We owe them, for what we allowed to happen to them.
― CARROL S. WALSH, LIBERATOR
I grew up and spent all my years being angry. This means I don’t have to be angry anymore.
― PAUL ARATO, HOLOCAUST SURVIVOR
It’s not for my sake, it’s for the sake of humanity, that you will remember.
― STEPHEN B. BARRY, HOLOCAUST SURVIVOR
A TRAIN NEAR MAGDEBURG
Table of Contents
Preface
BOOK ONE:The Holocaust
Hell on Earth
The Last Transport
Darkness Descends
Lost in Germany
The Ash Yards of Poland
A Child in Holland
‘Hungary is Judenrein’
BOOK TWO: The Americans
Coming Home
A Date with the Cosmos
A Time to Die
The Bulge and Beyond
BOOK THREE: Liberation
What the Soldiers Saw
‘The Americans Are Here’
‘I’ll never forget today.’
BOOK FOUR: Reunion
‘The Indomitable Spirit’
‘Now I know what I fought for.’
‘For the Sake of Humanity’
The Medics
The Orphan
Denial
The Mystery
‘What do you want the world to be?’
Epilogue
About this Book
Acknowledgements
List of Reunions
NOTES
June 6, 1944
Amsterdam
'This is D-Day,’ the BBC announced at 12 o'clock. This is the day. The invasion has begun!
Is this really the beginning of the long-awaited liberation? The liberation we've all talked so much about, which still seems too good, too much of a fairy tale ever to come true?... The best part of the invasion is that I have the feeling that friends are on the way. Those terrible Germans have oppressed and threatened us for so long that the thought of friends and salvation means everything to us!
― Anne Frank, diary entry, six days before her 15th birthday
April 15, 1945
Somewhere in Germany
Dear Mr. Huppert,
You will probably be wondering who I am and what business I have, writing to you.– I am one of the millions of soldiers of the United States Army, who is fighting for all the oppressed peoples of the world and hopes to have reestablished decency and honor to all mankind, with the defeat of Hitlerism.
Two days ago, it was the privilege of our unit to be able to liberate a trainload full of people of all nations imaginable, who were being transferred from a concentration camp near Hannover to some other place. Our advances were so swift that the SS guards left this particular train where it was and took off.
That is how I became acquainted with your wife, Mrs. Hilde Huppert, who asked me to drop you this note saying that both she and your son Tommy are both healthy and well, and now being well taken care of by our military governmental authorities. In actual fact, your wife wrote a message for you on a piece of paper in pencil, which she asked me to convey to you. Unfortunately, however, the penciled lines faded in my pocket, and I can no longer read what was written on it. The contents of the message, though, were to let you know that your wife and son are both safe and sound.
I am sure that your wife will soon be able to get into contact with you directly through the Red Cross, and I hope that in a none too distant future, your family will once more be peacefully united.
Sincerely yours,
Cpl. Frank Gartner
743rd Tank Battalion
Preface
A photograph taken by an Army major seventy years ago flickers to life on the screen. In it, a profound drama unfolds before the eye. The caption on the museum website reads:
A female survivor and her child run up a hill after escaping from a train near Magdeburg and their liberation by American soldiers from the 743rd Tank Battalion and 30th Infantry Division.
Record Type: Photograph
Date: 1945 April 13
Locale: Farsleben, [Prussian Saxony] Germany
Photographer: Clarence Benjamin
Photo Designation: LIBERATION –
Germany: General
Train to Magdeburg/Farsleben
Keyword:
CHILDREN (0–3 YEARS)
CHILDREN/YOUTH
SURVIVORS
TRAINS
WOMEN
The picture defies expectations. When the terms ‘Holocaust’ and ‘trains’ are paired in an online image search, the most common result is that of people being transported to killing centers—but this incredible photograph shows exactly the opposite. And there are many things about this story that will defy expectations. Fifteen ye
ars after I brought this haunting image to the light of day, it has been called one of the most powerful photographs of the 20th century. It has been used by museums and memorials across the world, in exhibitions, films, mission appeals, and photo essays. Schoolchildren download it for reports; filmmakers ask to use it in Holocaust documentaries. Yad Vashem, the Israeli Holocaust Martyrs’ and Heroes’ Remembrance Authority, even employed it as the backdrop for Israel’s state ceremonies in the presence of survivors, their president, prime minister, the entire government, top army brass, and the chief rabbi in a national broadcast on the 70th anniversary of the liberation and aftermath of the Holocaust. I know, because they reached out to me for it—me, an ordinary public school teacher, six thousand miles away.
For over half a century, a copy of this photograph and others were hidden away in a shoebox in the back of an old soldier’s closet. By spending time with this soldier, I was able to set in motion an extraordinary confluence of events that unfolded organically in the second half of my career as a history teacher. Many of the children who suffered on that train found me, and I was able to link them forever with the men who I had come to know and love, the American GIs who saved them that beautiful April morning. A moment in history is captured on film, and we have reunited the actors, the persecuted, and their liberators, two generations on.
*
It is a cool spring morning. In the background, down the hill, are two cattle cars. If we look closely, we can see a figure sitting on the edge of the opening of a boxcar, perhaps too weak to climb out yet soaking up some energy from the warming April sun. In front of him, a wisp of smoke seems to rise from a small makeshift fire that others have gathered around. The sound of gunfire is echoing nearby; a metallic clanking sound is growing louder at the top of the hill.
This is an appropriate backdrop for the marvel unfolding in the foreground. Now only a few steps away, a woman and perhaps her young daughter are trudging up the hill toward the photographer. The woman has her hair wrapped in a scarf and is clutching the hand of the girl with her right hand. Her left arm is extended outward as if in greeting; her face is turning into a half smile in a mixture of astonishment and enveloping joy, as if she is on the cusp of accepting the belief that she and her daughter have just been saved.
In contrast, the little girl is shooting a sideways glance away from the camera. Her expression is one of distress—she looks terrified. So what is really happening, and what are the amazing stories behind the picture?
On this morning in Germany in 1945, she may very well be responding to the two Sherman tanks that are now clattering up to the train behind the photographer, who is in the Jeep with the white star.
Following the mother and daughter up the hill towards the soldiers are two other women. One welcomes the tanks with outstretched arms and a wide grin as she moves up the hill. The other follows behind her. She appears to be crying.
It is Friday, the 13th of April, 1945. Led by their major scouting in a Jeep, Tanks 12 and 13 of ‘D’ Company, 743rd Tank Battalion, US Army, have just liberated a train transport with thousands of sick and emaciated victims of the Holocaust. In an instant, Major Clarence L. Benjamin snaps a photograph so fresh and raw that if one did not know better, one might think it was from a modern cellphone, although it will be soon buried into his official report back to headquarters.
But what have they stumbled upon? Where have these people come from?
And what do the soldiers do now?
*
In this educator’s narrative, you will learn of the tragedies and the triumphs behind the photograph. You will enter the abyss of the Holocaust with me, which the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum defines as ‘the systematic, bureaucratic, state-sponsored persecution and murder of six million Jews by the Nazi regime and its collaborators.’ You will meet the survivors of that train as they immerse you in their worlds as civilization collapsed around them. We will visit the camps and authentic sites together, and we will trace the route of the brave Americans who found themselves confronted with industrial-scale genocide. And I will lead you safely out of the chasm as we witness the aftermath, the miracles of liberation and reunification, seven decades later.
In many respects, this story should still be buried, because there is no logical way to explain my role in the climactic aftermath. I was born sixteen years after the killing stopped, a continent away from the horrors and comfortably unaware of the events of the Holocaust and World War II for much of my life. I was raised in the sanctuary of a nurturing community and an intact family. I am not Jewish and had never even been inside a synagogue until my forties. I’m not observantly religious, but I am convinced that I was chosen to affirm and attest to what I have experienced. In this book I rewind the tape to reconstruct how indeed it all came to be—the horrors of the experiences of the Holocaust survivors, the ordeals and sacrifices of the American soldiers, and the miracles of liberation and reunification.
As the curtain descends on a career spanning four decades, consider this also one teacher’s testament—a memoir of sorts, but more a story of being caught up as an integral part of something much bigger than myself, driven by some invisible force which has conquered the barriers of time and space. I too became a witness, and this is what I saw.
Matthew Rozell
Hudson Falls, New York
September 2016
BOOK ONE
THE HOLOCAUST
Our group marched in the middle of the road, with a few stone houses to our left, curious eyes staring at us from the windows. I felt deep humiliation, but the people who should have felt the shame were those staring at us from the houses. We were innocent, defenseless people; they were partners in the annihilation of millions of innocent souls.
–Irene Bleier, age 17
CHAPTER ONE
Hell on Earth
Bergen–Belsen Memorial, 2013
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the silent movement of an animal drifting cautiously out of the German woodland, moving slowly out to graze on the grass in the field. The deer looks up, and for a moment her gaze meets mine. The animal is sleek and beautiful, and in this moment we are both transfixed, in the place of horror. Growing up in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York, I’ve seen plenty of deer before, but here there is an almost telepathic current between us.
She:
What are you doing here?
You can’t be here.
Me:
What are YOU doing here?
You can’t be HERE.
But there she stands, and here we are. She is peace, and she is life.
I blink my eyes, and like the ghosts of the past, she has vanished. But she is not gone.
*
To the casual observer, there is nothing out of the ordinary here. Nature is reclaiming her domain—white birch and fir trees, green ferns and meadows, mowed fields with traces of walkways—but I look closely. Scattered bricks and bits of ceramic shards, cracked cement and twisted rusted metal fragments, broken window glass shimmering up from the dirt. I’ve been in the woods exploring abandoned farmsteads lots of times, and as an avocational archeologist I have done my fair share of uncovering historical ruins before, but here there is a difference. Lingering just below the surface of the present are the remnants of the evil of the past. And there are no casual observers at a place called Bergen–Belsen.
A concrete gutter channel runs into the woods. A looming obelisk beckons in the foreground, drawing me past overgrown mounds embedded with their baleful inscriptions:
Hier Ruhen 800 Tote April 1945
HIER RUHEN 1000 Tote April 1945
HIER RUHEN 2500 Tote April 1945
Here rest eight hundred dead. A thousand dead. Twenty-five hundred, dead. April, 1945.
*
If you have a hard time placing the horrors of Bergen–Belsen in your mind, bring back the image of the British soldier with the white bandana over his mouth and nose maneuvering a small bu
lldozer to tumble hundreds of naked corpses like ragdolls into an open pit. Picture again the film footage of captured SS guards, heaving emaciated bodies over their shoulders like potato sacks, stepping haphazardly into the mass grave, or the SS women guards dragging the deceased by the feet, the dead animated only by the macabre bobbing of heads on the earth. This is Bergen–Belsen, where the most unsettling and sinister becomes matter-of-fact, the archetype of the evil that Allied soldiers were just beginning to encounter that spring of 1945. The mighty Third Reich, conceived with haughty promises to rule the world for a thousand years, convulsed inwardly as hammering blows thundered from all sides, even while thousands of the persecuted were still arriving at their final destination in the railyard just beyond the camp, as the birds sang and the cannons roared.
*
In early April, the British Army was pushing relentlessly into northwest Germany in the Allied drive for Berlin. On Thursday, April 12, German officers appeared under a white flag at the British lines to make an unusual request. They proposed a local truce around the camp called Bergen–Belsen, fearful that a raging typhus epidemic might sweep the countryside if the camp was overrun in a warzone and the inmates not contained.
After some negotiations, advance elements of the British Army were finally able to enter the camp three days later on Sunday, April 15, 1945. Here they met the camp commandant Josef Kramer and his contingent of SS and Hungarian guards. Kramer told the British that it would be unwise for them to disarm his men—for not only would they likely be torn limb from limb by vengeful prisoners, but the threat of not being able to contain the epidemic was apparent.