I succeeded in escaping to the Netherlands today. This is why I start to write a diary. I want to write down now, what I have been suffering the past months. I have memorized the days and data, which I was not able to write down in Germany, since everybody knows what this publishing could cost me. Vienna, March 1, 1938. Hitler called chancellor Dr. Schusnick to Berchtesgarden, and demanded from him 19 points, new elections in fall, and, if the Nazis will have the majority, then Austria should be connected to the Reich and the Nazis will become members of the Parliament in Vienna. With one word: Hitler wants to have Austria in his hands. Chancellor Schusnick came back and gave a speech in Vienna and to his people in Tirol, where he clearly explained Hitler's demands. The people do not agree with this. They don't want to live under Hitler's dictatorship. Schusnick explained new elections for March 12, 1938 and the people should decide. At the end of his speech, Dr. Schusnick declared, we will fight until the last man, if it must be. Austria remains independent until death, Red, White, Red.

Thursday, March 9. The situation is very serious. I am a Jew. I have been pondering on one thought: Should I leave Vienna? I am aware of what will happen to the Jews, if Hitler will march in. I own a valid passport, but I cannot leave Vienna. My wife is expecting a baby in about six weeks, which means I cannot take her with me under these circumstances. This is why I decided to wait until Sunday in order to await the outcome of the elections. Many friends and acquaintances of mine have left the country. Some of them went to France, some of them to Belgium, or to Switzerland. They just locked their stores, and it was said they were gone on business trips. But I knew.

Friday, March 10. The streets are full of people, and the tension is enormous. The workers are marching in the streets, and they sing the worker's song. All of a sudden the workers are allowed to march and sing this song, because now, one needs the worker. Why has Dr. Dolfuss forbidden the worker's party?

If mayor Dr. Seitz were still in city hall, things would not have progressed that far.

One can see the Nazis already walking around in the streets, although they do not account for more than 10% of the population today. The Nazis even dare to wear these ugly brown uniforms in the streets. One can already observe confrontations in the first district between the Nazis and the workers. The communists don't want to interfere. They claim one should have allowed them earlier to do something against this.

There are already attacks on Jews in the “Jew Lane Italy”: Mussolini has always promised help to Schuschnik, but today this help was obviously denied.

My occupation: I have a textile raw material warehouse and apart from that I have been married for a year and I established a wool- and fabric store for my wife so that she would also have an occupation. I decided to close the shop today already at fife in the afternoon and go to the movies with my wife in order to forget the tension of the situation for two hours. At eight in the evening, it was Friday, we left the movie theater, and the first thing we heard in the streets was Jew, go to hell, die and down with the Schuschnik government. We realized that it was just demonstrations of some Jews. When we arrived at home, a neighbor came to us and told us the good news that Dr. Schuschnik had stepped down. Immediately I turned on the radio, and right, there was already a new Nazi member of the Parliament speaking. He told the people that the German military was already marching from Germany to Austria. My wife had an emotional outbreak. She could not stop sobbing. She kissed the pretty interior and said that soon she would not have the pretty furniture any longer. She saw everything clearly, and I realized as well that everything was lost. I have been working hard and saving money for many years. I have created an existence and a beautiful home for myself. Now everything is destroyed.

The next day, early in the morning, I went to my mother-in-law. I informed her of the news. I asked my mother to move to my place, because I saw the Nazi government arresting thousands. This is the reason why I wanted my wife…

This is the reason why I did not want my wife to be all by herself. My mother-in-law instantly moved to my place. Then I went to uncle Feder. I wanted to know, what my uncle, aunt and the children were doing. They did the same, as all Jews were doing: Waiting to see what the next day will bring. Many could still escape over night over a border. Unfortunately, our family did not think of this solution. Today it is too late. Sunday 12, 1938. The day on which the elections for Dr. Schusnick should take place. There, the Nazis are marching and singing in the streets: Today, Germany belongs to us, and tomorrow the whole world. The only comfort, which remains with us Jews, is that the world will not be silent. Days, weeks are passing, the Jews are being tortured; one has taken away our shops and existence, the money in our bank accounts was confiscated. Now, the question is: How can we survive? People are starving; as starving Jews, we have to wash and rub the streets. The work would not be too hard, but the beatings from these Nazi-gangs. After hard work, young Jewish women were raped and violated.

Dear Lord, how can you watch your chosen people getting tortured like that?

Yes, maybe we have sinned. I am walking on Heinzstraße, one grabs me and makes me clean windows and bridges in a SA (“Aussault Division,” “Brownshirts”) restaurant. There, I also meet Kapitalener Babi and Skoler Rabi's children, whose beards are shaved on one side only. They are lying on the bridge and rubbing. Are they also sinners? Every day brings the same. At night, thousands of Jews are collected by the Gestapo (“Secret State Police”) and abducted to Dachau. The women received one postcard from their husbands every week. The content was: I feel good, kiss you, and the name of the husband. However, if it was a letter delivered by the Gestapo, it said that unfortunately, your husband died of a heart condition as the doctor diagnosed. If you send 1000 Reichsmark, one will send you the urn. These were the news, the wives received from their husbands. It did not help the men to hide, because the Nazis knew all the places, where they were hiding. Most of the time, Christian families were hiding me, although they were very afraid. One has threatened the Christians that the same will happen to them, if they helped a Jew. Many Christians jumped out of their windows on the fourth floor.

They left a letter. I can no longer watch how one tortures the Jews. They also have a right to live. Every morning after waking up, I thanked God that I was still free. My one and only thought was: How can I escape this hell, this slavery, this torment? But every day brought the same.

Guildmasters, who are Christian priests, opened an emigration office in order to help Jews to emigrate. I realized this new chance and thought that maybe with their help I would have an opportunity to emigrate. Day in, day out I was standing in line until it was eventually my turn. They made a note of my name so that I would be sent away with the next transport –somewhere- because I did not care where, the most important thing, out of here. Many who were on this list before were sent away, many were sent to Haiti, Cuba and other countries. I have to wait for the next one.

On March 18, 1938 I find out that the American consulate in Vienna distributes sheets of paper in order to put down ones name to leave for the U.S.A. I ran there in the middle of the night to get in line. There were already hundreds in line in front of the American building.

So I got in line as well and was waiting to see what might happen. After several hours of standing, an officer came outside and took photographs. Then, the officer gave a speech, in which he told us that only those who have relatives in America should take sheets. I am the lucky one, because my mother has a sister in the U.S.A. I took several sheets and I arrived at home filled with joy. I told my dear wife of our new hope. She also gets happy, but not for long, because those who sent the sheets in earlier had been divided into groups, according to their place of birth. They put me in the Polish group, and they said that it would probably take at least a year for my emigration. One good thing was that Mr. Dankner, a cousin of mine, came to visit his family in Rumania and went back to the U.S.A. as an American citizen. On his way he passed Vienna on March 22, 1938 in order to find out how the family was doing there. I owe this cousin a lot for my life. He went with me to the consulate.

The consul let me know that it soon would be my turn after a while, if I could get an Affidavit. I asked myself whether I would be able to wait that long, and whether or not I would already be deported to Dachau.

The same day I visited the Feder family and my uncle and told him that he should also get registered at the American consulate. He claimed that he could leave without a registration because he had a sister and a sister-in-law in the US. Three months later he realized that he had made a mistake. It was only in July when he also registered.

Although he immediately received Affidavits from his relatives, the American consulate informed him that he was on the waiting list for the Polish group and that it would take a couple of years. Those who registered that day would be next in July. My cousin traveled to the US on July 29, 1938, and I received my Affidavits on July 29, 1938. The consul told me that I'd have to wait several months. My uncle succeeded in escaping with his family to Poland and settled in Cieszyn.

Now my worries were doubled. My dear wife is expecting a baby any day.

This is the reason why I couldn't even think of illegally crossing any border as many others successfully did. But many were sent back to the German border from Belgium to the Netherlands, for example. From there, all of them were sent to Dachau into the camp. I would have also risked this, but how could I leave my dear wife.

On May 3, 1938 I received a letter from the Luziner hospital, which says that because she is Jewish they regret not allowing her to deliver the baby in the hospital. I made a remark that I had made a reservation in the hospital for a bed four weeks ago and that I had also paid for it. I never got the money back. I hardly had any money left in the house. My warehouse was taken away from me. I had beautiful new furniture, which I sold piece by piece to the neighbors who paid well out of pity. I got into contact with Dr. Spitzer, a good pediatrician. He was fired from the hospital, as were all the other Jewish doctors. That's why he had time for me. I also hired a midwife.

My dear wife brought a daughter into the world. Another Jew who will suffer. Daily, hundreds of Jews are murdered, and others are born anew for the executioner. I named my daughter after my blessed father Simon. Her name was Simone. Now I had to deal with two other questions. The first was, how I would find the basic needs to survive, and second, how I could escape the hands of these murderers.

On May 19, I had a terrible toothache. As usual on Sundays, there were only a few Jews in the streets, because on Sundays the Nazis had more time to torture the Jews. This is the reason, why I chose hidden alleys to go to the dentist. However, I was caught in the Zirkus (Circus) alley by the Nazi beasts. They led me, and others through the Prater street to the main avenue. There were already 1000 to 1200 Jews, men and women, standing in a long row. They put me there too. Then we had to march to the beat and sing the Nazi song. Among us were 75-year old Jews.

Right in front of me, a 68-year old Jew was marching: sick, smashed and starving. He was not able to keep up with the up and down exercises. A Nazi pulled him up and down on his beard. I asked a SA Nazi if I could do the exercises for this old man, because I was younger. I was hit hard on my head with a rubber billy, and all I heard the SA man say was that he was going to make me old. Then I lost my consciousness. I woke up after several hours, everything hurt incredibly, and I was ready to die. I tried to look around, and I saw how all my fellow sufferers were beaten up and kicked. Late at night the SA men were gone. Good Christians took many Jews home to their houses. I was one of them. Over 200 lost their lives there. Many came with broken hands and feet in the Rotschild hospital. I came home and gave my wife an evasive report so that I could spare her. I also hid the pain of my teeth.

I did not even know anymore which pain was worse, my teeth, my head or my back.

That is when I decided to cross a border illegally no matter how hard it was to leave my dear child and wife alone. But there was no other solution, because it was impossible to flee with a little child and survive these strains.

I had always received mail from my uncle from Poland, in which he told me that I should consider going to Czechoslovakia. I liked this idea, because I thought I would get an entry permit from there for my wife and my child. I got in contact with several different people how to best get to Czechin illegally. My brother Salsman left for Cologne in order to cross the border there, hoping to flee to Paris or Belgium. He had already tried many times, but was always deferred by the Parisian border guards. The Gestapo threatened to send him to the camp in Dachau unless he drives back immediately to Vienna. A fortnight later, he came back to Vienna.

Since Hitler demanded …. Students…

line from the diary is missing

so that the Jews had some rest in September. However, I kept on searching for possibilities.

On September 14, I found out at Gildemaster's that there was a travel agency called “Tempo” in the first district on Nibelungen alley number one. They charge 400 Reichsmark per person and bring you to Prague. Filled with joy, I got there to find out that there is a transport for 16 people. Two men from Czechin make a detour to lead us there. I paid the required money and even received a receipt for it. Unfortunately, I could not bring my wife and child. I came home and told my wife that I would go the next day to Czechin. My wife cried her eyes out, but soon agreed that I need to go, because she could not think of any other solution.

September 15, 1938. I will never ever forget this day for the rest of my life. With a heavy heart I said goodbye to my beloved child. It looked at me with its big eyes, and I thought to myself, would I ever see this dear child again. Would I succeed in crossing the border? With all these questions, to which no one had an answer, I kissed my dear child again and left my much loved home, for which I had been saving money and working hard for years.

I also said goodbye to my mother-in-law who promised to take good care of my dear wife and child. My wife walked with me to my aunt Feder who lives in Prater alley 41. My dear mother was already expecting me. I said goodbye to my brothers Herzel and Moische, to my sister Lina and my dear mother. Saying goodbye to my wife, whom I had to leave behind with a fife month old child, was unforgettable. My brother Schloime did the same. He also said goodbye to everyone and we both drove to the travel agency “Tempo” in the first district in Nibelungen alley number 1. There, the sixteen of us got in a big autobus and we drove to Heimburg on the Czech border. We were dropped off there and were waiting at the Heimburger harbor. A motorboat was supposed to come from Pressburg and take us back there. In the meantime, the Gestapo had controlled our passports and checked whether we were harmless. We received a stamp, which said, emigrated on September 15, 1938 (“Ausgereist am 15. Sept. 38”). At the same time, they told us that we would be sentenced to ten years concentration camp in Dachau, in case we came back.

All our bags were examined for money. Then they put us on the landing stage and told us that from now on it was forbidden to step on German ground again. We had already been waiting for the longed-for ship for two hours, when, eventually two men came from Pressburg. Their Czech was good and they asked us whether we were ready for departure. We said yes, and asked where the ship was. They did not answer, but instead, we could not believe our eyes, we saw a little boat of about 13 feet, which should offer space for 16 people. “Stop thinking of surviving this ride and just let yourself drift down the Danube,” I was thinking to myself. “No, no, we don't want the certain death,” we were crying, “We want to go back to Vienna”. “Oh, Vienna, you will never see it again you Jewish riff-raff. We are happy that we got rid of you,” the Nazis replied. They said, we should either go to Dachau or drown in the water. We decided to take our chance, and the men from Pressburg told us that they had already successfully transported many others. So we all crunched together in this boat. Those who had heavy luggage had to throw it into the water, because the boat threatened to sink.

The Nazis were yelling: “Jews, drown in the water!” We all grabbed the oars and rowed away from the harbor. Every minute, the huge waves threatened to send us to the abyss. Among us were two women over 60. They also wanted to save their lives and cross the border. For us it was even more difficult with the women. They made our work worse with their whining and screaming. We had already passed the Hungarian-Czech water border, when one of our leaders said that we were already out of danger, because a German motorboat could not approach us more closely, because we were already in Czech water. The Czechs, however, believed that we were Czechs, and some of us also spoke Czech, so it was easy. One of the Czech patrol asked me, where I was going, and I answered him in good Czech that we were coming back from a short trip, and heading home to Bratislava. They told me I better hurry to get home because they were expecting a thunderstorm. The Czech police could not believe that we dared to make this long journey from Vienna to Pressburg.

Now we had to continue with our ride on the water to Bratislava. All of a sudden we were surrounded by huge waves. They were crashing over the boat. The rain was pouring, and the boat threatened to sink completely, because it was full of water. We tried to bail out the water with our hats. Unfortunately, in vain. The more we were working, the more we were flooded by the waves. We looked death in the face. We were sure this would be the end. Our leader from Czechin told all of us who knew to swim to jump in the water and hold the so-called boat so that it would not sink. I was one of the five who immediately sprang in the water. The old women stayed in the boat. They were crying. We were not far from the harbor in Pressburg, and certainly, we would have soon landed safely, had not, unfortunately, the women's screaming at night on the water, caught the harbor police's attention. Of course, one could not hold a grudge against the women, because everyone wants to live. Indeed, the police stopped us. No more lies were possible. We had to speak the whole truth. We were lined up single file, and with Czech accompany we were led through the city of Pressburg to the police station.

It was 11:30 p.m. We came across Czech Jews in the streets. They were on their way home from the movie theaters. They told us that we should not be afraid, because we were on save territory. They also ensured us that the Czechs would give us residence and not send us back. We were dancing and shouting with joy on the street, although the police was still accompanying us. We are free, we will have enough to eat, we will not be beaten up again by the Nazi beasts, we will not be brutally woken up again in the middle of the night and be locked up for several days, waiting until the Nazis had finished torturing us to their full satisfaction and sent us back home. We had to consider ourselves fortunate, if we were not sent to the concentration camp in Dachau.

All these thoughts went through my head. Meanwhile we arrived at the police headquarter in Pressburg. They gave us a room with an armchair so that we could rest. Cunningly, they were interrogating each of us individually. They promised us residence.

The Jewish committee should take care of us. At around 1:00 a.m. we were all loaded in a car, and they told us that they would take us to the committee. However, the ride seemed very long to me. I could not believe that the deceitful Czechs would simply drop us on no man's land. I almost blacked out when the car stopped, and I saw no man's land.

They handed us back our passports, in which they had stamped: “Deported.” I grabbed the officer, and kissed him all over. I was imploring him: “You cannot send me back, they will shoot me. The same will happen to my brother, and all the other fellow-sufferers here.” I soon gave up because I realized how brutal and heartless the officers were to us. They had their bayonets directed towards us, and just dumped us off onto no man's land. They told us, if we dared to cross the border to Czechoslovakia they would shoot us. We were all standing on a field, which is called no man's land. Now I know what it is.

The wind and the stormy rain would not want to stop. We were hungry. We had no food. We were soaking wet.

On the one side were the Czechs with their machine-guns, and, on the other side the Nazis with their guns. We tried to go back to the German side, and were instantly threatened by warning shots that they would shoot us, if we did not go back. We had our hands up, and remained standing. The Nazis came and hit us with their rubber truncheons on our backs, and kicked us with their feet. They told us to return to no man's land; otherwise, they would shoot us. There was not even respect for the old women who were almost frozen. It was 1:00 a.m., when the Nazis left us on the same no man's land, and told us the same what the Czechs had said: “Should you enter German land again, we will shoot you.” The women were crying and screaming. Of course, everyone wants to live.

Unfortunately, these were the critical days, in which Hitler wanted to adjoin Sudetenland (Susanne's explanation: The Sudetenland is a historical region comprising areas of the Czechoslovakian provinces of Bohemia and Moravia)

to the empire. This fact made it even more difficult to try to leave no man's land again, and re-enter Czechoslovakia because the whole border was heavily guarded by Czech soldiers. Despite this enormous danger, we told the four women that three people would try again to cross the border. If we were successful, they should take the same way. My brother, another man, and I left, and in five minutes we were already in the Czech forest on free land.

Again, we had hope that maybe we might still be able to reach Pressburg, and from there we would succeed in reaching the station in Prague. Should we be able to get to Prague, we would be save. Regrettably, we jumped to conclusions. We had almost reached our destination, when we heard all of a sudden: “Stop, halt, or I will shoot. Hands up!” Many Czech soldiers came out of a ditch, and started to search the bags of the three of us. They probably looked for weapons because they thought we were Nazis. We told them that we were Jews, and that we did not want to die in no man's land, and that we would fight for Czechoslovakia as volunteers. Neither are we allowed and able to go back to Czechoslovakia nor to Vienna, because we would get shot. The soldiers had mercy with us, and said that they would take us to the military court. Whatever they would decide on, so it would be.

After an hour, an officer interrogated us. We told him everything. Meanwhile he had made a phone call. Briefly afterwards, the same police officer came and took us back to no man's land. There we were again at the same place.

There I saw that many people were missing. They told us that the women had crossed the border in order to head towards Vienna. I did not envy them. Two men had crossed the Danube to Hungary. Meanwhile, one man had come back from Hungary and said that they had fallen into the police's arms. The police took them back to the river, and told them to go back from where they came. So they swam back, and one person drowned in the water because he could not endure the cold any longer. We envied Mr. Frühberg's death. He had it already over with. We just realized that a similar end would be waiting for us. I screamed out loud: “No, this cannot happen. I left a three and a half month old child and my wife at home!” My brother came up to me, and gave me a piece of chocolate. He asked me, whether I was still strong enough to try to cross the border a third time. As long as we had some energy left, we should try it again because we had nothing to eat, and many days could pass, where we would not get anything to eat.

I did not think about it for very long, and said: “No, who would say no!” The same man also wanted to try it a third time.

We took the way on the other side of the forest. Soon, after ten minutes, we were caught by the soldiers. The officers had already informed them about us. They knew who we were. The democratic Czechs did not treat us any better than the Nazis. Still today, I feel the beatings from the butts on my head and back. They said: “Take this as your last warning. No matter what, you will die anyway. No man's land is guarded from both sides.”

A crying fit came over me. Are Czech democratic officers this cruel, or are we Jews so loved everywhere? I tried it in a nice way. I hugged and kissed the officer. I implored him: “Maybe you also have a child at home?” He responded that he had three children at home but that he could not help me, and pushed me away. I felt loosing all my strength, and all I heard was my brother asking the officer, whether they could carry me to the border hut.

He said he could not help me, but he would ask the head of the waiting room. This person answered that I would die anyway, and that it would not matter if it were earlier. My brother's yelling woke me up. However, I was not able to utter a single word. I was chocked with fear. My brother yelled again: “He must live, he has a child and family!” I was able to hear and understand everything, but I could not speak. Finally, the Czech officer consented to bring him into the waiting room. They put me on a bench. It was about 3:00 a.m. I soon fell asleep on my brother's lap. I was happy that my brother also got some rest on this occasion. I was dreaming that I had to stand against the wall, and that one would shoot me. I screamed terribly in my dream: “I want to live!” and woke up from it. My brother tried to comfort me, and suggested I might want to pretend that I was insane, and, maybe, they would take me to a hospital. So I started crying and singing in order to get to a lunatic asylum. It could only be better than no man's land. It did not take long, before the officers came and beat us up.

Again we were violently taken back onto no man's land, my brother and I. Again I was hit on my back with a butt until I collapsed. I fell down on the wet ground.

After several hours I woke up, exhausted, starving. It was the second day I was without any food. All I could see was my brother, and Dr. Brückner who had been working as a lawyer all these years in Vienna. I instantly asked where all the others were. They told me that the women, and three other men, had successfully crossed the border at night. They had managed to get back to Vienna. Two men had tried again to get to Czechoslovakia. One could even find a safe place in Prague, but the other one, unfortunately, was shot because he did not stop, when they told him to.

While they were reporting this to me, I saw, all of a sudden, another fellow-sufferer. They had just dropped him off. He told us that he was already in Hungary, but now back here again. He started crying and said: “ I have tried everything, every border, it just does not work. I have bad luck. I cannot stand it any longer. I am hungry, I am starving… .” The man became insane and yelled out: “I do not want to live any longer, I can no more, God save my dear wife and children!” With these words he jumped from the bridge into the water.

I wanted to run after him, although I saw that the blue Danube had already devoured him. Unfortunately, Dr. Brückner had held me back, and I still blame myself for not running after this man. The lawyer asked what kind of end I would expect, and I should give this man peace. Only then I realized how desperate I had become, yes, the same end, no, no… I must live. My child needs a father. I yelled: “We must fight for our life. We human beings are not sent in this world in order to escape from it. This would be too easy. One has to fight for one's life.”

The Dr. was laughing and said: “As long as we still have enough energy to jump over the bridge railings into the water we should try. But we have to hurry before it is too late, and all our energy is gone. Otherwise, we will face an eight-day-long torture, awaiting death.” I responded that there might still be a miracle waiting for us. I tried to get up in order to convince myself, whether I still had enough strength. Yes, it worked. Man is indeed stronger than iron.

New courage came over me, and I told my brother that I would try to negotiate with the German border control. I started walking towards them. It was 9:00 am.

They directed their guns toward me and said: “Halt, or we will shoot.” I surrendered, and kept walking towards the Nazi border control. I told the soldiers that I wanted to talk to their superior, and they led me to him. I told him that Hitler did not want to have the Jews in the Reich, but that he did not want the Jews die like that. Everyone committed already suicide, and we are only three people left on no man's land. I begged him to give us just three days, and we promised to leave Vienna within three days. We wanted to try the west border. I no longer care about my own life, but I have left my wife and a three-month-old child in Vienna. You are a soldier, and I talk to you from human being to human being, maybe you also have a child at home? You can no longer starve us, my father defended this land, and I would defend this land as well, although I am a Jew. The officer had tears in his eyes, and responded that we Jews were brave, and that we could endure a lot. He would like to help me, but the law prohibits Jews to return to the country once they emigrated.

The officer said that if we all signed that we would go to the concentration camp Dachau voluntarily, then we would have the possibility to get back out of it sometime even if it would take several years. I was crying and begged for a three-day permit, and if I did not succeed in getting to the Netherlands or Paris, I would go to Dachau. The officer told me that he would call the Gestapo in Vienna, and if they agreed, he would let us go, if not, we would need to go to Dachau. He said that he could not do more for us. I realized that he would not deceive us, and so we three agreed because we would not manage to survive without food or water anyway. The officer sent us something to eat, which we accepted thankfully. He told us that he would put us under arrest until he had news from the Gestapo. We would know by 3 p.m.

It was better in the cellar than on no man's land because it was not as cold, and we could sit somewhere. The Dr. and my brother were wondering what else might happen to us. I told them that I preferred a later death to committing suicide right now. I had new hope, but then, I saw that each and every wall was covered with writings by Jewish prisoners.

The content was: “My name is so and so, I tried to cross the Czech border. Unfortunately, I came into this cellar. No one will leave this place alive. One hour ago, my friend was shot to death, soon it is my turn…” Then there was the signature of that person, and the date, which was eight days ago.” I read several of these last testaments of people who had left their life there. A last note had the following content: “I left two children in the age of two and three and a half in Vienna. For days now, I have been tortured and interrogated. But now, the end is near, because I hear and see what happened to my fellow sufferers. Should anyone, through a miracle, be able to leave this place and gain freedom, please, announce to the world, what an end we Jews have, and thousands of others. Maybe, someone can take care of my children.”

So, were these our prospects? We all looked at each other. At this moment, I decided to fulfill this stranger's last wish in case I ever left this place.

It was noon. We had to wait three more hours for the decision. We had to suffer agony.

Two hours had passed already. It felt more than two years. One more year to wait. All of a sudden the key turned in the door, and the same officer stood in front of us and said: “O.k. you are allowed to return to Vienna but only for three days. During this time, however, you must disappear, otherwise, you know where they will take you!” Your train will leave at 3:45 p.m. You have to stay locked up here until ten minutes before the train departs. Meanwhile, I give you a Jewish letter, which you should translate, but word for word.”

We were alone again, and despite our complete happiness that we would soon be free, we were all very nervous because we did not really believe it.

I took the letter and started translating it. It was about a Rabbi from Presburg who warns the Jewish to buy any meat but kosher, etc. I translated this letter exactly as it was because we had more problems than the Rabbi.

We were counting the seconds, and exactly ten minutes before 3 p.m., as the officer had said, the door was unlocked, and we all had to sign that we had not seen anything at the border, and that we would leave Vienna and the Reich within three days, otherwise we would end up in Dachau.

We were taken to the station and given tickets for the train. A moment later we were sitting on the train but did not believe that we would go to Vienna. Eventually we arrived in Vienna and found ourselves in the same situation as before, but worse because we only had three days.

First, I went to Aunt Feder in 41 Prater Street. There, we met our dear mother, the third brother, and family Fröchter. They looked at us with bewilderment because we two almost looked like death. We were not able to talk because we were crying tears of joy. We could not believe that we were still alive. My dear aunt told me that she would not let me go home right away. At first I had to eat, take a bath, and then, in the evening I could go home to my wife. My aunt said that otherwise, my wife would be shocked, if she saw me in that condition.

No matter how much I was longing for my dear children and my wife (because they were the reason why I regained my freedom) I was too tired to walk back home. It was only in the evening when I arrived at home. I opened the door and my child looked at me with her big eyes filled with joy to have her daddy back. I told my wife and mother in law my experiences and went to bed. Now, I could really appreciate my bed but only for three nights.

The next day I was running around, looking for ways to escape from Vienna. I only had two days left. People told me I should stay because it was very difficult to cross any border at that time. I should not sleep at home and wait for a little longer. So I slept every night at another acquaintance's house, most of the time at family Fröchter's. I will never forget their generosity.

Two weeks passed and no one had asked for me. It was not really surprising since the Nazis were busy with the Czechs because of the Sudetenland. Therefore we Jews had less to suffer. Hitler gave the Czechs an ultimatum that he wanted to have the Sudetenland until October 1, 1938, or he would declare war. The situation was serious and tense. The German troops were placed along the border to Czechoslovakia. Thousands of trucks were coming and tanks were moving toward the border. There were only four days left until the ultimatum was up. Then, secretary Chamberlain negotiated with Hitler, and, of course, he gave in because he had nothing to lose. This was when Hitler occupied the Sudetenland. The triumph was huge and the population satisfied, because they no longer had to go to war. Then, the persecution of the Jews began again.

At night they started to pick up people quietly, who were sent to Dachau or Buchenwald. I did not know where to sleep any more. People were afraid of letting me stay over night, which I could understand because those people were sent to Dachau as well.

Poland also took a part of Czechoslovakia. Now it is very small. Today, a new law was passed that every Polish citizen who lived in Vienna would not get a new passport. Those who had possession of valid passports could only go there within the next five days. After that all passports would be invalid. Unfortunately, we three brothers had stateless passports because we had already lived in Vienna for over ten years. Whereas my mother and my fourth brother and his wife still had Polish passports. I told both my dear mother and my brother to take the next train and leave for Poland. Although my brother had received an affidavit from his wife's relatives in the United States, the chances of emigrating to the USA are small because he had registered in May, i.e. that he had to wait two more years until it was his turn. I also received an affidavit from my aunt, and I actually had chances of getting a visa within the next several months.

My dear mother listened to me and left. My brother and his wife also went to Poland, somewhere into the unknown. The farewell was terrible. From this big family, only three of us brothers stayed behind. Aunt Feder and her children succeeded in escaping to my uncle in Poland who had already fled several months ago. They had managed to settle there and were awaiting their call to emigrate to the USA.

Today I received mail from my dear mother and brother in which they tell me that they arrived happily in Zolesseryki. I am so glad that they are already there because Mr. Hitler is not pleased that Poland does not issue any passports and does not let Jews into the country anymore. The Nazis picked up loads of Jews from their apartments, who had once lived in Poland.

I used to go home only once a day in the evenings for several minutes so that I could see my dear wife and child. I also went there today. I gave my signal on the door and my mother-in-law opened and gave me something to eat. The dear child was gurgling in the stroller.

I had hardly started to eat, when my mother-in-law let me know that two police officers had asked for me. My dear wife was angry with her mother because she had not waited until after dinner. She wanted me to finish eating, but I could not even swallow my first sip of coffee. It got stuck in my throat. I asked her for each and every detail. Now I was convinced that the police wanted me since I did not have any permit to stay. I kissed my wife and the dear child. The woman did not want to let me go at night but her mother said, whether it was better if the police came and arrested me. Therefore I said good night and disappeared in the darkness.

It was 11 p.m. The first thing I did was calling my brother, who told me that I should sleep somewhere else because one could also look for him at his place. My other brother, who had been in Czechin with me, was afraid of staying in Vienna. Hence he had gone to Aachen in Germany in order to reach Paris from there. I gave up. Where shall I sleep now? No Jew is allowed to stay in hotels any longer. There are no Jewish hotels any more. Sleeping in the streets is also no longer safe because the Nazis are marching around. For that reason I always did the “Heil Hitler” greeting, otherwise they would have stopped me. However, this greeting could have also cost my life.

I wished I would not live anymore. I tried to call one of my uncle's friends, and told him that I needed to talk to him. He said that he would await me under the window. I ran through back alleys in order not to get stopped. After 15 minutes I arrived at Weintraubengasse 19. From the second floor Mr. Frächter had thrown down the key out of the window. In a few words I told family Frächter that the police was looking for me, and that many people were arrested in the streets. Then Mr. Frächter said: “I will not send you away because I do not know what will happen to me tomorrow. We will play domino because we will not be able to sleep anyway.” We played until about 1 a.m. After that I suggested to Mr. Frächter that he should go to bed since I did not want to steal the whole night from him. I left the domino game on the table in case someone came to arrest me. It would appear as if we were playing domino until very late. I did not want to cause the good man any troubles. Mr. Frächter went to bed.

He told me that I should lay down in the dining room. I laid down but there was no way that I could sleep. Why are the police looking for me? Am I a criminal? Did I not give everything away? All I want to keep is my life, and only because of my dear children, but how? With all these thoughts in mind, I fell asleep.

I woke up at 7 a.m. with my dear wife next to me. She explained to me that the police had returned at 2 a.m. They were not only looking for me but for everyone who had been born in Poland. Mr. Frächter showed me the newspaper, which reported that more than 100.000 Jews had been arrested at night. Most of them had already been transported to Poland. The whole world was addressed when Mr. Hitler apologized for this operation because Poland wants to expatriate the Jews who are living in Vienna, and will not allow them to ever reenter the country. This is the reason why the Nazis wanted to hand them over to Poland in one night. No one cared that thousands of them had already died. The fact that the Polish people did not treat the Jews any better than the Nazis is perhaps not known to the world, after Poland had threatened to send all Germans, who were living in Poland, to Germany.

Consequently this procedure was stopped. However, those who were already in Poland were kept back until the Polish had erected a concentration camp for the Jews. The Polish people did not act differently than the Nazis. Thus, I am very relieved that I was not caught at night. Maybe it was not because I was simply lucky but because the Jews who were citizens were not harassed, and the members of family Frächter were also citizens. I only stayed a few more days at their place. I had decided to live at home. It does not make any sense to keep hiding. Fate will decide, and so it may be. I came home, and the neighbors thought I had been arrested. Now I needed to find a way for my wife and child to leave. For me it is difficult, I am not in a fortunate situation at all.

I found out through an acquaintance, Mr. Ringel, that women could go to England as maids and cooks. Mr. Riegel also wrote a letter for me to one of his acquaintances that he should present my wife at an agency. They contacted the employers who submitted a permit to the “home-office.” And indeed, my wife received a letter from the agency Miss O'Lee, in which a woman informed her that she had a job for her as a general cook. As soon as my wife would accept this job, the woman would hand in the permit. Of course I agreed with everything and wrote to the agency via airmail.

Every day I was waiting at the door, expecting mail. One day, a letter arrived with the long expected permit. I kissed the permit while being fully aware that this would mean that I got separated from my family. Who knew whether I would ever see them again. Still, I was happy. Now it was time to react quickly and take care of the exit visa. It was extremely dangerous to get in line at night at these offices, because there was no need for the Nazis to arrest the Jews in their houses, since everyone who was expecting a visa had been standing in line for thousands of weeks now, waiting until they would be able to leave the country.

On the margin: “Permit arrived for my wife.”

People who already had a visa and could leave the country were the happiest, although they knew very well that it would not be easy to work as a cook or home help in England. Those who already had a visa for the USA would have never exchanged it for all of Rothschild's wealth. My wife was in the same lucky situation, because with a lot of effort I had already cleared her exit with the German administration. Night after night I was in line; and now the struggle began again, because there were also hundreds in line at the English embassy awaiting their visa. It was already the second night I was in line, when the embassy opened in the morning and 25 people were allowed to go inside. The rest of us were told that we should come back the next day. So I decided to come back at 6 pm the evening before, so that I would be among the first ones. At about 6 pm I was already at the embassy.

I was the eleventh and told myself that it had to be my turn today. The night was extremely cold. The frost froze my feet, but I was dressed warmly, and also had a bottle of tea with me that warmed me up. Finally, after 14 hours of standing (even the people who brought their own chairs were not allowed to sit down), the embassy was opened, and an officer appeared and said that because we had already been in line throughout the night, he will take the last 25 people in the queue. Many people broke down from pain. The police came and beat us hard after such a long, awful night like this. During the night, people inside the English embassy were pouring buckets of water out of the windows on our heads. I do not want to accuse the English embassy per se, because there were many German Nazi employees in the building, but I will accuse the English embassy for hiring such employees.

I came home and told my wife everything. She said that it was pointless and maybe not meant to be. Maybe, she thought, we were supposed to stay together. I told myself: “No!” I was convinced that my wife and our child needed to leave. Suddenly I had the idea to call the English embassy, and talk to the consul in person.

His secretary told me that I could not talk to the ambassador. So I told him I would instantly call the “home office” in London in order to explain my matter of concern in case I could not talk to the ambassador. After a while the ambassador answered the phone and asked me what I wanted. I told him how long I had been waiting in line, and what was going on there. The ambassador told me to come again the next day at 10 am. I should tell the porter that I was ordered. My joy was incredibly great.

On the sixth day my wife and I arrived on time at the embassy. The porter had already been informed that one should let us in. After several minutes we stood in front of the ambassador. He asked my wife what would happen with the child and where she would leave the child in Vienna. My wife told him that she would take the dear child with her to England and put it in a home, which she would pay with the money she would earn.

The next question was, what I would do and where I would stay. I answered that I had an affidavit for the USA, which I would receive soon. Then, my wife and the child would follow me from London to the USA. “Unfortunately,” the ambassador told me, “all this sounds very nice, however, your wife cannot go to England by herself.” The child would not get a visa and had to stay in Vienna, or I had to pay £50 for a home for children for a whole year so that the child would not be a burden for England. I told the ambassador that I had enough money here, but I have no way to get it to London. He responded: “I cannot help you!”

Troubled with these thoughts, we went home. Should my wife leave the six-months-old child in Vienna? No, all my efforts had always been to find a safe place for both of them, because no one knew what might happen in the next days.

One can only buy a little bit of food these days. The foreign countries do not want to sell anything to the Germans, which is indeed correct, because there will be even less later.

November 5, 1938. I was at Mr. Frächter's house, and told him about my misfortune. At the same time I met a man called Gertler at this place.

On the margin: “November 5, 1938. The English ambassador does not want to issue a visa for my wife.”

He told me that his wife had also received a permit and tried already several times to get in line at the English embassy, but was never heard. After I told him about my success, Mr. Gertler decided that it would not make sense that he would wait in line any longer. Since he had two children, he would get the same answer from the ambassador that I received. Mr. Gertler declared that it was better that he knew that now, and thus, he decided to write a letter to his sister in London right away. She was married to an Englishman and was able to pay £100 for a home for children. And indeed, after several days Mr. Gertler received a letter from his sister, which explained that she had paid the necessary amount of money to a home. I told Mr. Gertler that I was truly happy for him, but that it would not help my wife and the child. Thus, Mr. Gertler said he might be able to help me and gave me two addresses, to which I was supposed to write and explain my situation. Maybe someone would be willing to take care of the child. For that reason, I wrote to Ms. Schwab who was supposedly a member of a committee, and I addressed a second letter to the “Wizo-London,” and a third letter to a Jewish home for children in London.

All three letters had the following content: “My wife has a permit to immigrate to London. However, the ambassador will only give me the visa for her, if someone can sponsor my dear child and guarantee that it will not be a financial burden to the country for a year. After that year, my wife will emigrate with the child to the USA. Therefore I ask that someone write a letter to the ambassador, and give him the guarantee that the child was taken care of. I also stated that my wife has already a job in London, where she would earn 1£ a week. She would send this money directly to the home for children. Please, help my child. I myself am expecting the visa for the USA, and will soon bring my family there as well. I remain in great hope to receive a positive answer soon. I thank you for everything in advance, and remain in deepest gratefulness, yours J. Goldhirsch.

Now I was filled with new hope, and was expecting at least one positive response daily. Meanwhile the permit of my wife had expired, because these permits were only valid for four weeks. Hence I got up early the next morning and left for the city hall.

It was November 10, 1938 when I tried to hand in the extension for my wife's permit. And it was that day, which I believe no Viennese will ever forget in case he survived that day. I went to the forth floor of the city hall, and was lucky that it was my turn after three hours of waiting. I handed the permit in and the officer told me that I could pick it up at 11 am. Thus I decided to wait for these two hours. I sat down on a bench in the corridor and was watching the lucky people who were waiting in line to get a permit in order to save themselves. Wherever they would go did not matter.

All of a sudden about 100 SA Nazis came upstairs with guns in their hands. Probably they were afraid of the strong Jews. Every single Jew was beaten up with their clubs and was chased into a room where they were led away one by one. Because I was quite far away from the officers, I managed to escape into a room where taxes were delivered. In this room I saw a man walking up and down. He asked me what I was doing there. I said that I did not know and told him the truth that Jews were beaten up in the corridor and taken away. So I decided to escape in this room.

The officer probably wanted to make a phone call so that someone would get me. I grabbed the officer und cried bitterly in front of him. “Please, let me go home to my wife and child.” The officer responded that it would not help me because all of city hall was occupied by the SA, and that he could not keep me there, and that I had to go. I left the room and went down the stairs. Downstairs I saw that all exits were guarded by the SA. My first thought was calling Mr. Fröchter from a phone booth in the courtyard. Ms. Fröchter answered and I asked her what was happening. But all she uttered was an evasive answer. Then I heard that the voice on the other end was suffocated and a man answered. “Fröchter, hello, what is going on?” I realized immediately that it was a strange voice and said: “I wanted to know how you are doing. Are you getting better? I hope you will be healthy soon again. All the best.” I hung up and knew that the Nazis had come to arrest Mr. Fröchter. “What should I do now,” I asked myself. Should I go home? How will I get out of here? I mustered all my courage and said to myself that I might have a chance. I put on the swastika that I had always in my pocket, and marched straight outside through the gate.

At the exit I said “Heil-Hitler,” and my greeting was responded. Then I took off the swastika because I could have run into an acquainted Aryan who knew that I was a Jew. I wanted to go home by streetcar, when I saw that people were thrown out of the driving cars through the windows. Of course, Jews. They remained lying on the street completely smashed. Then I saw that thousands of Jews on the Ringstreet were being beaten up and kicked. All of a sudden I heard newspaper venders yelling in the streets: “Special Edition! The Jew Grünspan shot the German ambassador in Paris. Jew progromes all over the Reich. Vengence-Vengence!” Now I understood what had happened. I had to get home to my wife and child, but how? At that moment a taxi came around the corner. I stopped it and told the driver to take me home quickly because my wife was sick and that I would pay him a lot. The man understood my excuse and said he would not allow anyone to stop him, and that I should not be afraid. The great God had sent me this good man, because he indeed drove extremely fast.

On the margin: “Wien. November 10, 1938.”

Indeed, I saw that taxis were pulled over and people were arrested. After a short while, I arrived in the Dischnerstreet and my mother in law was already waiting anxiously. I rewarded the chauffeur amply and went into my apartment. I told my family briefly what I had experienced. My wife told me that all Jewish men in the house, and in the other houses were led away. My mother in law suggested that I should pretend to be sick and stay in bed. It was a good idea, and thus, I went to bed. I had called an Aryan doctor, and told him that I had a stomachache. He did not even examine me, because he understood very well what I wanted. Therefore the doctor said: “You do not need to be afraid of me. I am ashamed to be an Aryan. How are the Jews to blame for one of them getting out of control?” The doctor wrote me a certificate that I was severely ill, and wished me good luck. I want to point out that not even 30% of the Aryan population is Nazis. It was only the mob that was able to rob the Jews without getting punished for it. What a great opportunity Mr. Hitler had given the Nazis.

My brother had just arrived a day before from Aachen, because he did not succeed in crossing the border. I knew that he had spent the night before at Mr. Frächter's house. For that reason my wife called there in order to find out where my brother was. Ms. Frächter said that my brother, her husband, and all other Jews had been arrested, and no one knew where they were. I asked myself whether I was really lucky. Yes, I got excited too soon. Half an hour later, five SA Nazis came. One pulled away my blanket and told me to get dressed. I was lying like a corpse in my bed. One of the robbers was about to beat me with his rubber club, when my mother in law declared that I had to have surgery. She showed him the doctor's note and explained that the Rothschild hospital was overcrowded. The dear child started to cry so that the one said: “Let's leave him here.” The second said: “He must come with us.” My wife and mother also started to cry. Eventually they left and I escaped death. All I could do now, was stay in bed. I told my mother in law that she should buy groceries because we did not know how long the progromes would last.

After several minutes the mother came back and said that nothing would be sold to Jews any longer. She was crying hard, because she wanted to buy at least a bottle of milk for the child. But even that was denied to her. Jewish stores did not exist any more. They had all been taken over by the Nazis. Every employee who had worked for a Jew was now the owner of the shop.

We gave the dear child warm water to drink. How long could the dear child survive without milk? The child was crying. My wife could no longer watch it, grabbed my beloved child, opened the window, and was about to jump from the third floor. In one leap I jumped out of bed and grasped my wife with the child just in time. I saved them from death. I told her: “Are you insane? There is still enough time to do this later. Help is surely on the way.” And indeed, Aryan neighbours, who heard the child cry, came at night, one after the other and brought groceries and milk. One neighbour was afraid of the others and thus said that no one should say that he had brought something.

I have compassion for the child. What can the little worm be blamed for? Every neighbour repeated the same. A proof of how the Hitler system was loved. The next day we had eleven bottles of milk and groceries for several days.

The second day brought already some relief. The arrests had stopped. Many Jews had been sent home, but only those who were sick or who had been crippled. A cousin of my wife was beaten so hard that both his feet had been broken several times. He was admitted to the hospital. His name was Arnold Fried. Several days later I visited him. A note on his bed said: Accident. Yes, there were thousands of such accident-cases in the hospital, and oddly enough, every patient had the same note on his bed. The Nazis thought that the world would not find out. However, they even announced that the Jews had to pay 1.000.000 Reichsmark, because they knew that some Jews might still have money. The world would have loved to pay ten times more for Hitler's head.

An uncle of my wife, Samuel Fried, was also arrested with his 16-year-old son, Jaschi. They had to carry coals with their teeth from one cellar to another. They were hit cruelly. About 40.000 Jews were taken to the concentration camp Dachau. People with broken feet were actually the lucky ones because they came back home. Lucky, because it was difficult to get out of Dachau again.

Herr Frächter also arrived on the second day and told us what he had gone through. He was released because he was a “war shopper.” My brother was with him, but was led away with others on a truck on the first day. For days, I was running around and tried to find out where my brother was - without any success. At the ministry of education and the arts I heard that several thousand corpses had been brought to the Jewish cemetery. Hence, I went there with the hope of not finding him there. I saw thousands of dismembered and smashed corpses. This end would have awaited me too. On the sixth day, I received a postcard from my brother that said that he was all right.

The address was Kenjulane. He was locked up in a church. I knew what it meant when he was asking for shirts: my brother would go to Dachau. What a tragedy for this young man. Unfortunately, my sister who was still in Vienna with her four-year-old boy had a stateless passport as well. For that reason she was not able to return to Poland with my dear mother. My sister drove to her brother in order to bring him his shirts. I did not dare to go there. My sister said that she could not even see her brother; there, one took the things from her and told her that they would let her know her brother's next address. It was no use to cry. People were happy if they would only get a sign of life, even if one landed in the concentration camp. They were happy most importantly that one was still alive.

After the ninth day, my brother Schloime came home with a long beard, unshaved, and starved. He told us that he had been released because he carried a ship ticket to the USA with him. Before being transported to Dachau he was asked when he would leave Vienna and the Reich.

He responded that he would be leaving the following week and showed his ship ticket. He was very lucky. His current sadness was having signed that he would leave Vienna, but where to? Under these circumstances the American consulate will not issue him a visa; he only bought the ticket, since the money was not safe. I also had bought a ticket for myself. My brother Schloime received a from Montevideo from a cousin. Although the immigration was already closed, the ambassador promised him to issue the visa.

My second brother Herzel did not show any effort to get out that quickly. He also had immigration papers for his family for Argentina, which he had received from his brother in law. Unfortunately, the immigration was blocked for a year; meanwhile he received a letter by the Gestapo that they learnt that he had done a lot of business and did not pay enough taxes. Thus he would have to render 12,000 Reichsmark within three days. My brother was not able to submit this amount anymore because he had been robbed of everything already. Therefore there was no other way for him but to flee.

For that reason my brother left for Cologne, Germany that same day. We received letters by him daily, from which we understood that there had not been an opportunity yet to cross the border. For him it was particularly difficult because he had to cross the border unnoticed because the Gestapo had taken his passport.

December 12, 1938. He received a letter from England. “Wizo” wrote to me that they had passed on my letter to the orphanage, and they hoped that I would be lucky there. Mrs. Schwab wrote to me that one has to pay £50 a year ahead of time for all orphanages in London in order to get such a letter from the ambassador. However, Mrs. Schwab still wanted to try to find a home. A Jewish home for children responded to my third letter; if I were able to put down £56 for a year, I would get a “guarantee letter” addressed to the consulate. One day later, I received a letter from Mrs. Silcock for Lea.

Mrs. Schwab had told her about how we were doing, and that she had already sent a “guarantee letter” to the English consulate that our relatives put down the money for a year. She also wrote that she was looking forward to taking care of the little child as soon as my wife would be working, and what she would be able to pay for the child would be good. I could not believe my eyes; it was a Christian home which was that good to us. Indeed, two days later, I received a letter from the English consulate that my wife and the child should come for the visa. The three of us went to the ambassador who told us that the “guarantee letter” from Mrs. Silcock had arrived that she would guarantee for the child, which meant that my wife and my child received the visa on December 14, 1938.

How much I envied my family that they would soon be safe. What will happen to me? My mother-in-law was supposed to receive a visa from the same agency as well. Unfortunately, she received a letter that it would be difficult for her to find a job since she was already an elderly woman. Yet, she was still hoping that my wife would find a job for her once she would be in England so that she could ask for a permit. Therefore I decided that my wife should leave in four days, on Sunday.

My wife was supposed to travel through the Netherlands, because she had an uncle and an aunt there; they were not “true” relatives. She only called them so because they had taken care of her during the war in 1914, when she was a little child. She had been there for six years. Although they were only friends to me, I asked them to arrange an immigration for me to the Netherlands. They sent back wonderful letters; they told me that they had handed in a request, but they did not believe that it would be permitted, because they did not have enough money to prove that they could support me until I would emigrate to the USA. I thought my wife could travel through the Netherlands. She could talk with these people, and maybe they would try harder then. With this hope I should stay behind all alone.

It was Friday 16, December 1938, when I went to Mr. Frächter in order to find out whether there was any news. And indeed, I learnt that one was looking for all three brothers at his place. Schloime went to the Hungarian consulate, was weeping, and received the visa to Montevideo so that he was also able to leave in a couple of days.

At the same time my wife came to Frächter and told us that secret agents were looking for me. They said that I had to pay 3000 Reichsmark, otherwise they would transport me to Dachau; allegedly I had not paid enough taxes. Where should I get this money from? How can I buy my freedom? I have no money left. My wife was crying, and told me that she would not leave for England, because she did not want to leave me behind like this. Fortunately, a letter by my brother Herzel from Cologne arrived the same day, saying that his wife and the nine-year-old boy had come to him; he also told me that I could come, because there was an opportunity now to cross the border. Thus, I told my wife that I would accompany her up to the border, and then I might get off in the Netherlands. I persuaded her to leave, and that I would get off in Cologne, and I promised her that I would be waiting for her in the Netherlands. Of course, this was impossible. We decided to leave the very next day instead of waiting until Sunday. My dear sister came to me crying desperately that she did not want to stay in Vienna as the last one of the family. She wanted to come with me, although it was very hard for her with a young three-year-old.

I told her that it would be very strenuous, because I would have to do it illegally. I promised my sister that she could follow later as soon as the dear Lord would have helped me to be safe. But my sister did not like this idea. Thus, I offered her to come along, if only she thought she would be able to endure the strain.

The next day I left my beloved home. I wrapped the dear child in warm clothes, took a suitcase with clothes for my wife, and only two shirts for me. We left everything else in the apartment. I gave the key to my mother-in-law and said: “Should anyone ask for me, explain that you don't know where I was.” At around 10 p.m. we were at the West-Station. There, I met my sister-in-law Ryfie with her boys who wanted to go to my brother Herzel in Cologne with the hope of crossing the border. My sister Lina was already there with her child too. With these children I should take up the struggle to be safe. However, I told myself that my brother in Cologne should take care of them or maybe, for the sake of the children, the good Lord would help to facilitate the situation.

I sent my wife to the ticket counter, and she bought four and a half tickets to Cologne, or rather only three and a half, because my wife bought a ticket to London. How we envied her. The woman goes directly to London, and we will have to wait until there is an opportunity for us, or – will they arrest us? My mother-in-law said good-bye to her only daughter and grandchild. She was crying bitterly, and I comforted her: “ You will soon be able to follow your daughter to England, but who knows where I will end up?” My wife and all the others were already on the train. I decided to also get on the train until it started to move, because I saw in every person a secret agent. I told my mother-in-law and her sister from Rob Winter. I excused myself for not saying good-bye to them because I did not want to be discovered by anyone. They said that we would say good-by by looking into each other's eyes, and that the Lord should lead me on the right path. I left all my money with my mother. She should have it to live for some months. At the last moment, my brother Schloime came to say good-bye to me. I told him that I should actually say good-bye to him because he had his visa, and would leave tomorrow for Montevideo.

But it remains a big question whether I will be able to cross the border tomorrow. I only said: “You dear brother know how it feels to cross the border illegally. We experienced it together in Czechoslovakia and in noone's land; how were we both suffering; you know it and you can understand it. My brother told me I should not leave my sister Lina, and should consider taking her with me, and God will surely help me to reach my goal. At this moment, the train started to move. As much as I wanted to hide my departure I did not care at this moment because I thought I might never see my brother again. We kissed each other, and I also kissed my mother-in-law and my aunt, and jumped on the rolling train. My dear wife was already waiting impatiently. She thought that I would stay behind.

The whole train was full with soldiers on their way from Vienna to Germany in order to learn about Hitler's commands. I was lucky and found an empty compartment where we all sat down. I felt much safer now. Now I felt very hungry because I had not been set on eating for the last two days.

My sister-in-law had something to eat with her, which she gave to me. Our conversation revolved around this trip, and what would happen to us next week. This night trip passed quickly and a new morning arose. My beloved child had been sleeping on the bench throughout the night, wrapped in a cushion. At this moment the child opened its big eyes. Although I wanted to pull myself together in front of my wife, I had to cry, because I was aware that there were only 14 hours left which I was able to spend with my family before I had to get off the train. When would I see my dear child open her eyes again? “There is no use to cry,” my sister and my sister-in-law told me, “we would give half of our life, if we had a visa like your wife. But she is the lucky one, and we are delighted for her, but the Lord will help us too.”

My dear child and my sister's child began to cry. It was not surprising, since they were hungry. Fortunately, the train stopped at a station. I got off the train and bought some milk, bread, and other things to eat. We were all eating. I gave my wife the leftovers, because she had to be on the train for 10 more hours until she would arrive in the Netherlands.

Her foster parents were supposed to pick her up at the station; in the “safe” Netherlands she should get some rest, and also describe my situation to the Possman family. Maybe, we were hoping, they would work harder on my entry visa. After that my wife was supposed to take the ship to London. In the meantime, it was already 10 p.m. I had two more hours left before I had to get off the train in Cologne and leave my family. The dear child was crying and did not want to sleep. The little worm was already able to feel; I took the little pillow with the child in my arms and sang a song while I was crying bitterly. “I should only see you for one more hour!” My dear wife suggested that I should stay on the train until the Dutch border. There, she said, she would beg and cry until the Dutch police would let me stay with her. Unfortunately, I could not accept this suggestion because it was a childish thought. I told her that it was impossible but that I would do everything in my power to follow her as soon as possible. I also told my wife that she should leave nothing undone as well. At midnight, the train arrived in Cologne.

I hugged the dear child and kissed it a last time and the sister and the sister-in-law and said good-bye to my wife. I kissed my two beloved ones one more time and got off the train. The train took off and disappeared in the darkness. I stayed behind absolutely miserable. “Why did I let them go?”

In the meantime, I found my brother Herzel who blamed me for bringing the sister with her child. He thought that it was impossible for them to walk in such cold and through snow. I also found out that it was hopeless to cross the Belgium or Dutch border since the police send everyone back who arrives. We all went to my brother who had rented a room with three beds and slept the whole night through. The next morning I got up early, and wrote a letter to the Possman family in the Netherlands, hoping that the letter would reach my wife. I changed (disguised?) my handwriting, and explained to my wife that I still had to wait before I could come. I wrote a second letter to my mother-in-law.

In the course of the day, I learned that other Jews from Vienna had been waiting for six weeks to get a chance to flee. Many of them were already in Belgium or the Netherlands and had been sent back by the police.

There were also many Aryan leaders with cars who had taken Jews over the border for 500 Reichsmark. Unfortunately, they quit doing it because the Gestapo threatened them that they would be punished the same way as the Jews if they continued helping them. I bought some food for the night, and told my brother that I would try it that night all by myself. In case I was successful, I would write them and let them know how to do it. My brother insisted that my sister should go back to Vienna since the flight was unpromising for her with the child. I told him she should at least stay until he heard from me.

Life was expensive. We did not have a lot of money left. I only had 120 Reichsmark. I took 20 and gave the rest to my brother to save it for me. I also told him that he should give 50 Reichsmark to our sister, and the rest to my mother-in-law, in case I would be able to cross the border. I said good-bye and went to the train station where I bought a compass and cigarettes. I bought a ticket to Bochhold, which is at the Dutch border.

Two hours later, I arrived in the little town Buchholz. At the station I asked around if any Jewish people were living around here. I was told that all but one had emigrated. The name of the one Jew left was Metzger. I went to Mr. Metzger and explained my situation to him. He wished me good luck and said that I should wait until it gets dark.

On December 19, 1938, at 8 p.m. I approached the border, and tried to avoid running into the German border patrol. Unfortunately, I encountered a border guard while I was still on the German side. He took me to the customs house where they undressed me, and searched through all my pockets. Of course, they did not find anything, since I did not have anything. The officer told me that I should follow his advice and not even try to cross the border since the Dutch would not let me in. I started to cry and explained that my wife and my child were already in the Netherlands, and that I wanted to try it as well. The officer responded: “Good, if you want to leave I let you go. However, if the Dutch send you back I am not allowed to let you back in into the Reich.” I was begging the officer that he should give me 24 hours in which I could come back.

He looked at me and wished me good luck. “If you come back before tomorrow evening, I will make an exception.” The officer came outside with me and showed me the way. He said: “Should you manage to flee to the Netherlands, don't say that all Germans are 'Jew eaters' but that there are still many with a kind heart.” I instantly realized that this man was not a Nazi. He added: “God bless you and watch your way. Stay close to the trees otherwise you will drown in the swampland and not ever see your wife and child again.” I thanked him and disappeared in the woods. The darkness, which was surrounding me was favorable not to be seen by the Dutch police.

After about three hours I was already on Dutch soil. All of a sudden, I saw spotlights in the forest. Whenever the light came close, I was hiding behind a tree; as soon as it became dark again, I ran. Eventually, after 14 hours of running through the forest I reached Venlau in Holland. I was looking for a Jewish person in order to ask how I would get to Haag.

He told me that it was difficult without money; by car it would cost 35 Gulden, and by train only 4.50. However, it was not safe by train. This good Mr. Mayer left and came back with a chauffeur. I told this man that I did not have any money, but that my wife who was in Haag would pay; I would give him my gold watch as a security. The chauffeur told me that we could leave immediately. I thanked Mr. Mayer and we left.

After ten minutes we were already pulled over by a police officer. He took me to the police station and I was interrogated. One told me that they would take me back to Germany with a Dutch police car. I was crying but it was doomed to failure to reach the officers' hearts. Violently, I was pushed in the car, and off we went. I asked myself how much longer I would be pushed around like a ball. The same officer, who had stopped me in the Netherlands, came along. Since he also spoke German, I cursed at him and asked him whether he had children. He said yes. I told him that I had the same right to see my child every night the way he sees his children every night.

Although I had offended the officer massively, he told me that he wished he would not have stopped me; tears were in his eyes. At this moment, the car stopped. The officer said: “Here is the German border. Cross it. There is no sense in showing resistance.” At the German side, the same officer received me and told me that I was out of luck. It was very cold. The officer asked me whether I was hungry and gave me tea and bread. Afterwards he told me that it was very difficult to flee to Holland and I should try Belgium.

I decided to go back to Cologne, hoping that my wife had written from Haag, and later I would try Belgium. I took the next train to Cologne. Late in the evening I arrived at my brother's place. He starred at me as if he did not believe his eyes. He had hoped that I was already safe and would have sent help to him. I told him about my experiences and went to bed.

The next day I learned that the police were arresting Viennese Jews who had come to Germany in order to cross the border.

A man called Leopold Faber advised us to sign with his name, whenever we would write to Vienna. Thus I wrote to Vienna with the new name. I also wrote that I had not been far from my wife and child, but that I did not reach my goal. The same day a letter from Haag arrived via express mail. Before I opened the letter I believed that help was on the way. Unfortunately, my wife wrote that she had tried everything in Holland and that it did not work. For that reason she decided to leave for England immediately, hoping that she might find help there. She told me I should write to her at the shelter.

Immediately I wrote a letter to England, informing her about the luck I had. I also wrote a second letter to the Possman family in Holland telling them my situation as well. My brother Herzel asked me to talk to our sister Lina; that she should drive back to Vienna, because there was no reason for Lina to stay there any longer, starving and freezing. I tried to explain to my sister that it was impossible for us, especially for Herzel and the child, to cross the border with her. My sister obeyed, and we gave her some money with which she could go back to Vienna on December 22, 1938.

Our hopes increased because it was Christmas in two days. For that reason, the Jews believed that the borders would be guarded less on Christmas Eve. I personally did not really believe it, and thus, I decided to try the Belgium border again. I could not advise the same to my brother since he did not have a passport, and he was afraid for his own self. I told my brother: “I will try it again today. I will try to reach Belgium. Now, that my wife is no longer in Holland, I don't see a reason to go there anymore; now, the main thing is to get out of here, and that's why I will try Belgium.” My brother thought it might be better to wait for Christmas Eve. I told him that I would not wait, because I could already be on the other side by then, and I might be able to send him help. Again, I said good-bye to him, went to the station, and bought a ticket to Aachen. I arrived at the Belgium border at around 7 p.m. I went to a restaurant and bought something to eat. I grasped the opportunity and asked the innkeeper whether he would know a good way to Belgium. He understood what I meant and asked a young man from a table to come to him. For 10 Reichsmark he said he would bring me over the border and show me the way where to go from there.

I did not think for long, and gave the man 10 Reichsmark. All I had left was 8 Reichsmark. We left immediately, always walking through the woods. The man told me that we were already in the Belgium forest, and that he would go back, and that I should keep on walking always straight on. After four hours I would reach Antwerpen, where I should go to the Jewish Committee, which would help me get a permit to stay.

I was very surprised and asked him why we did not go to the German custom office; maybe I could try it there in case they do not let me in. The man answered that they would not have let me in, and that was why he showed me another way. He wished me good luck and left. I continued my journey to the unknown.

The night was very cold and dark, but I was very warm from walking fast. All of a sudden I did not trust me eyes, I saw a man and woman behind a tree leaning against it.

“Maybe they are tired and want to rest for a while,” I wondered. “But it was freezing!” I walked up to them and said: “Are you crazy, you will get a cold!” They even had a child of about four years on their lap. No one replied. I shook the man's arm, and then I realized that they must have been lying there for several days. I starred in their black and frozen faces. All my limbs froze. I left, wondering whether I had to expect the same fate. I forced myself not to think about it. I had to make it.

The forest ended and I reached a crossroad, where a sign showed me the right direction to Antwerpen. At 6 a.m. I was already at the Committee, which was still closed. I walked up and down in order not to raise suspicion. But fate was against me! A man approached me and wanted to see my papers. He took me to the police station. There, they did not want to hear anything, and they did not ask anything. They ignored my begging, packed me in a car, and an hour later I was back at the German border. The whole torture of the past night was in vain. The Belgium police told me I should go from where I came. I tried. Unfortunately, I was already received by raised guns.

They told me: “Go back from where you came!” When I explained that the Belgiums had said the same, they responded: “Go to hell! Pop off in no man's land!” Now the fight for life started again. But how? I still remember very well no man's land in Chechin. I was able to soothe my thirst with snow, but how could I get something to eat. Although I was very tired, I was running up and down the field so that I would not freeze. The whole day passed. I was waiting for the evening to come so that I could try to get out of there. Finally it got dark and I tried to enter the Belgium side, when I was illuminated by lights. One guard yelled: “Don't move any step further or I will shoot!” The same happened when I tried to enter German territory. I felt that this was the end. I had no food, my body was frozen, and I broke out in heavy tears. I felt sparkles dancing in my eyes. I screamed: “Is this the end? Why? Do Jews only own no man's land? Don't we have any right to live in this world?” Then I collapsed. My body was too weak and too cold. I was still conscious, and all I remembered were the frozen people in the forest the night before. I did not want this to happen to me.

I must live! I only want to see my child one more time, and then I can die. I mustered up all my strength, massaged my frozen feet, and got up again. I saw my child in front of my eyes smiling at me. This gave me fresh energy. I ran along the strip of no man's land, and I warmed up again. I was running like this for about three hours when I saw Dutch signs in the forest. I must have gotten lost in the Dutch region. However, I knew that Belgium was on the border to the Netherlands. But I did not know in which direction I should go. I decided to walk until I would reach a Dutch village.

I was walking through the forest the whole night; it seemed as if the forest would never end. All of a sudden, someone shouted: “Stop or I will shoot you!” A Dutch border guard asked me where I wanted to go. I answered under tears that I would want to go to Haag. He said that this was impossible and that he would take me to the German border. All my begging did not help, and we arrived in Kleye. The Germans received me, which surprised me. I was queried.

They wanted to know, why I came back. I told them that the Dutch did not want to let me in. A Nazi asked me whether I did not know that once a Jew would leave the German border, he was not allowed to return. I responded that I had thought that I would succeed in reaching the Netherlands, where my wife and child were already waiting for me. I begged him: “Please let me try it again! I must go there.” He answered: “Tomorrow you will get to the place you belong to.” I screamed: “To the concentration camp in Dachau! No, you cannot do this to me.” The officer called me a dog, and told me that I could not tell him what to do and what not. He kicked me with his foot in my stomach and I broke down.

I woke up and everything around me was dark. I instantly recalled that I was in German hands, and what they planned to do with me. After all these struggles I was supposed to go to Dachau? “No, no,” I yelled, “that cannot be!” A man opened the door and asked me how I was doing. It was a different man: a police officer for sure. I asked him where I was. He informed me that I was in a prison in Kleye, and that at 11 p.m., I was supposed to be transported to Dachau by train. I asked this man whether he would do something for me.

“I want to die. Give me a knife, please, I cannot endure it any longer.” I told him everything I had gone through the past several months. “I can go no longer. I have not eaten in three days.”

I saw that the man was crying. He locked the door and left. After several minutes, he came back with a piece of sausage and some bread. He told me to eat, but that I should not tell anyone, because he was ordered not to give me any food. However, he wanted me to gain strength, because I would need it. I wanted to kiss the man all over and told him that I would not eat, since I did not want to gain any new strength. Maybe I will die earlier. The man left again.

I heard a church bell ring 9 p.m. There was only some time left before someone would get me. I was knocking on the door, and the same man opened. He was startled when he looked into my face. Probably I looked really “beautiful.” I asked him again for a knife, because I wanted to end my life. The man told me that he would love to help me, and that I needed to live. He told me not to do any stupid things, since I had a child. I asked whether there was a chance to ever leave Dachau alive.

“Maybe,” he responded. I screamed again: “I cannot go on any longer!” and broke down again from not having eaten.

When I woke up the good man gave me water and told me that I should pull myself together, since I did not have a lot of time. He gave me something to eat so that I would gain some strength. “Listen to what I have to tell you,” he said. “At 10 p.m. a bus will pass the prison.” He showed me at which tree the bus would stop at 5 before 10 p.m. I would need to climb through the window and buy a ticket to Kleye. From there I should go to Bachhold, where I might be successful in crossing the border. I was surprised and asked him how I should escape through the iron crossbar. He explained to me that he would rip it out for me. My second question was how he would be able to defend himself in case they caught me. He told me that I had to succeed, and that he hoped I would not betray him. I swore on my beloved child that he could trust me. I grabbed the food and ate. In the meantime, the good man had already loosened the crossbar on the window, and I already had a hole to crawl through. It crossed my mind that I did not have any money left, because they had taken away my last 8 Reichsmark. The man, or I better call him my angel, gave me 9 Reichsmark.

Unfortunately, he told me, I don't have any more money with me. “May the Lord bless your heart.” He locked the door letting me know that he would knock on the door three times when I needed to go.

The minutes felt like years. Finally, I heard him knock three times and whisper “God bless you.” I jumped through the window, and there I was at the tree. At this moment the bus arrived, I bought a ticket, and within a short time I was in Kleye. There, I saw a priest, and I trusted him. I walked up to him and said: “Father, could you please tell me where a Jew could go here. I am tired and I want to stay somewhere overnight.” The priest responded: “Yes, my child, I will show you where Mr. Mayer lives. While we were walking, I told him that I had already been to Holland, but that they had sent me back after three excruciating days. However, I did not mention the prison. He was astonished that they had let me in, and I explained that I came in through detours without being seen. The priest told me that he would take me to Mr. Mayer's house, before they could stop me.

He assured me that I would be safe with that man. The priest knocked on Mr. Mayer's door and a woman opened. The priest asked her, if I could stay the night, because I was a Jew and extremely tired. “Of course,” she replied. I thanked the priest and kissed his hand as well. “God bless you,” he said.

When I entered the apartment, I was surprised to meet Mr. Thaler from Vienna, a friend of mine, and his wife with a boy of about seven. There was also a girl and another boy, all from Vienna. I told them all my experiences. They could not believe that I was able to struggle through all this, and that I was still alive.

I planned to leave early for Cologne the following morning. But then, I heard that Mr. Thaler and the others were expecting a stepsister from Holland. She was supposed to come soon; with her they wanted to figure out how they could all leave together. Thus, I asked the people if I could join them since we all have the same lot. Mr. Thaler agreed, and the others suggested that I should wait and see what the sister from Rotterdam would think.

This woman is supposed to know a man who would take us over the border. On the other side of the border, a car would be waiting for us and take us to Rotterdam, which would cost 30 gulden per person.

In the meantime I had fallen asleep on the armchair. I woke up the following morning and two women from the Netherlands introduced themselves to me. They felt very sorry for me, because I was crying a lot in my sleep that I wanted to die and other things. I told them how my life had been these past several months, and the situation I was in at the moment. The two good women promised to help me get into the group, which had ordered a car for the following morning.

The others in the group were not really happy that I would join them and gave the excuse that they were worried that I would not be able to pay the 30 gulden in the Netherlands. I responded that my wife had left a gold watch at the Possman's house so that I would have something to live on in the beginning in case I made it over the border. I swore that if God helped me to sell the watch in the Netherlands, I would pay everything with this money.

All of a sudden Mr. Mayer came running and said that the police was arresting every Jew, since Kleye was too close to the border. Thus, I suggested that we should all go to Cologne. Then we would go to Bochhold where we should wait for the Dutch man who was supposed to show us the way.

We all went to the train station in order to buy tickets to Cologne. At the station, we all took a hotel room and decided to meet the next morning at 9 a.m.

Again, I went back to my brother's house. Everyone was astonished since I was back after only four days. I talked to them about my experiences, when my brother said that it would not make any sense for me to leave. I should just stay here and wait until things would change. However, I told him that I would definitely leave the next morning because I had met Mr. Thaler and the Dutch women who would take me with them. My brother responded that he was envious about my courage. I answered that one only dies once, and that that would be my last test: death or life.

The following morning I arrived at the station on time. The people were already there. Bep Koopman, the Dutch woman, had already bought my ticket to Bochhold and gave it to me.

She said that she would not leave me behind. I could not believe how dear the people were. Everyone else was already on the train. I pressed my brother's hand strongly and told him that if he would not hear from me within the next four days, I would be lost. I knew if they caught me, I would be punished with death.

We arrived in Bochhold after about three hours. A man from the Netherlands was already waiting for us. The two Dutch women said that they would go home by train, and that we should trust in the guidance of this man. We took a taxi to the Dutch border and got off the car. The march through the forest began. The guide told us that we were already on Dutch soil, which made me happy. We kept on walking and had to carry a boy; it was always someone else's turn. I told the people that they should not regret that I came along, since I was the one carrying the boy Erwin most of the time. After eleven hours of walking in deep snow, we arrived in a suburb called Niemechen. From there, we were supposed to go to Rotterdam by car.

A large car with two men was waiting there on the field. We got into the car and the two men told us that we had to lie on the bottom of the car in case we were pulled over. The car drove off incredibly fast, about 90 miles per hour. We approached the Vendo bridge, which was guarded by the police. The police wanted to stop the car, but the driver went even faster, and the river was already behind us. When I heard the police shooting at us, I threw myself again on the bottom of the car. After several minutes, the driver of the car said that the worst was over. The number plate was changed and we continued with the same high speed even when we came through little villages. Suddenly the car stopped at a gas station and I assumed that we needed gas. The other man pulled a revolver and released the safety catch of it. I asked him why he was doing that, and he responded that he would only use it if someone would be too snoopy and interrogate us.

For God's sake, nothing happened and we continued the ride. Shortly afterwards, the car stopped again and the driver put little flower bouquets on our clothes. He told us that he needed to drive slowly through Amsterdam. In case the police should pull us over, we should sing loud and pretend that we were drunk and not give any answers. We had hardly arrived in Amsterdam when we were stopped by a police officer. We were all singing at once different jingles while I heard the officer ask the driver where we were going. The driver responded angrily that he did not need to justify that they went to a wedding. He said that the officer could ask him for his driver's license but that anything else was none of his business. The officer apologized and explained that it was suspicious to him that we would be on the road so late. The driver responded: “Excuse me, but since when are wedding parties during the day?” The policeman apologized again and off we went.

I don't wish anyone what we were going through these ten minutes. Hopefully this was the last test. The car stopped at the house where the good Koopman's live. We all went inside.

The two Koopman sisters kissed me out of joy, and told me that I was free. I could not believe that I was already safe. Am I really safe?

It was almost seven in the morning when I sent Mr. Koopman to the post office in order to send four telegrams for me; one was for my brother in Cologne, another was for my mother-in-law in Vienna, a third for my dear wife in London, and the last to the Possman family in Haag. In the first three telegrams I wrote that I arrived in good health, and in the one to the Possman's I asked them to come visit me because I was afraid to go to Haag by myself.

Breakfast was served and everyone was sitting down to eat. They asked me why I was not eating. I told them why; while we were walking the whole night through the deep snow, I swore to God that I would fulfill three things: the first was fasting as soon as we would be safe, the second was that I would not smoke on Saturdays (not because the Jews should not smoke on Saturday, no, I am not that pious) because I am a heavy smoker, and I wanted to make a sacrifice once a week; the third resolution was that I would do everything in my power to help every person, and especially those who needed to be saved from getting killed in Naziland. I was fasting the whole day, and in the evening, Mrs. Koopman had prepared a wonderful dinner; it was long since I had last eaten, and apart from that food was very limited when we were still in Naziland. The Possman family also wrote a telegram telling me that they would not be able to help me. Since I did not know what these words meant, I wrote them a letter in which I explained everything. I told them that all I wanted was the golden watch my wife had left with them, and that I needed it to get some money once I sold it. I wanted to give family Koopman 33 gulden, which they had paid for me for the car and the drivers.

The next day, Mr. Thaler went to the police and wanted to ask for a permit for several days or weeks but never returned. The police had been merciless and had sent him back to Germany. I was so glad that I did not go with him. Who knows what would happen to this dear man. I felt so sorry for Mr. Thaler should he be back again in the hands of the Nazis.

I asked Mrs. Koopman if she could come with me to the committee, because I did not know the way, and the likelihood of being stopped was less if one was accompanied by a woman. At the committee, I explained my situation and asked them for a permit for four weeks, which they denied, because the Dutch police threatened to close the committee. Without having had success, I went home with Mrs. Koopman. “Home? Yes, where is my home?” I wondered.

All of a sudden, Mrs. Koopman stopped at a newspaper stand and said: “Oh my God, and now what? The police warned every Dutch who had any refugee stay overnight without a residence permit; otherwise, the offender would have to pay a 500 gulden fee, or go to prison for three months.” When we arrived back “home,” the whole family was looking at me. I soon understood, what was going on. “Where should I sleep this coming night?” I told family Koopman that I did not know how to thank them for everything, and that I did not want to put them into further danger, and maybe the dear Lord would help me. The good Bep Koopman refused to let me go: “You will sleep in the attic, and I will always bring you food there!”

She told her brothers that they all had to wait and see if my wife would send a visa from London. She said that she would vouch for me, since I had already suffered enough; in case the police would find me at their place, she would take on the punishment. When I heard that, I said: “Dear good Bep, I will never ever forget your words, but I will not put you into danger. I will go to a temple, and perhaps, someone can help me there.” Hesitantly, Bep agreed to come with me to the temple, only under the condition that I would come back with her, if no one would help me there. After I had arrived and prayed at the temple, I climbed up a table, and spoke: “Jews, listen to me!” Everyone became silent while I was talking about my life the past three months. I told them that I was praying that maybe one would be able to let me stay for a short time, or at least let me sleep there one night. Everyone felt sorry for me, turned their heads around, and slowly left the temple. There were about 500 people in there, and the only one who stayed was the sexton and I; no one had even asked whether I had eaten. I asked the attendant whether I was allowed to stay in the synagogue overnight, since I assumed that no one would look for me there.

He agreed to it but asked me not to tell anyone. The wonderful Bep had been waiting for me outside until I came and told her that I would spend the night there because it felt safe. Bep asked me: “Aren't you afraid?” and I replied: “Better than being in Dachau!” She promised to pick me up for lunch the next day, and I wished her a good night and went back to the synagogue. The sexton was already waiting for me with a glass of tea, declaring that it was a shame that so many Jews did not want to help me. He extinguished the light, and I locked the door from inside. I felt very lonely in this large hall with so many benches; only the Eternal Light was burning above the Ten Commandments. I walked up to the Torah shrine and kissed the curtain with the commandments while I was crying terribly and imploring the good Lord to help me and listen to my prayers. There was no way I could sleep. I took a Chumash, and read how Moses led the Jewish people from Egypt to Israel. I had to cry again and was wondering who would come and free us now. “Who cares for us now?” Over this question, I fell asleep on the hard bench. I dreamed of my dear Lord who told me: “I will help you, my child.”

I cried: “Father, don't leave me alone!” and then I woke up and everything was dark around me. I looked up and saw my good grandfather and many others pray on the balemer dressed in their talesims. “Aren't they dead?” I was wondering, or “Am I dreaming? Or is everything true?” I was screaming and lost my consciousness out of shock.

I opened my eyes, when I heard loud knocking on the door. I could not get up in order to open the door. I was only screaming. The attendant had to climb through the window and opened the door. Some Jews were standing in front of me, and one of them said that one should call the hospital. I understood everything, but was not able to speak when I wanted to tell them not to take me to the hospital. I wanted to scream again, I was at the end of my strength and collapsed.

I woke up in the hospital when the doctor gave me an injection. I asked him where I was, and whether the police knew. The doctor answered that I was in the hospital, and then, I heard the good Bep say that the police did not know that I was there. Only then did I realize that she was sitting on the other side of my bed. I told her that the police would find out now, but she denied it and said that she would take me home as soon as I felt better.

Bep also surprised me when she gave me a letter from my wife that had arrived from London. She wrote that she had changed her job because a Mr. Pines had promised to help her with my immigration. She wrote that I might be able to come to London in about two weeks. This great news gave me a lot of fresh strength. I told Bep that I was strong enough to leave the hospital, and that I would soon receive an entry permit for London.

I left the hospital the same day, and went home with Bep to Niewe Achtergracht Street 39i. A letter from my brother from Cologne was there, in which he writes that he was very happy that I was safe, and I should strive for helping him and his family as soon as possible. I talked with Bep about it, and she promised to think about something, but that I should be patient for a couple of days, since she planned to send an acquaintance from Vienna to my brother in Cologne. They would do the same that had been done for us. In the meantime, Mr. Possman's brother had arrived from Haag. After I told him my story, he said I should rest for another night, and come with him the following day to Haag.

He said that they were not rich, and that I had to eat what they were eating. He told me that his brother and his brother-in-law had many acquaintances in Haag, and maybe, it would be possible to get a permit, since the police are smaller in Haag and one could also make a request to Queen Wilhelmine. We discussed that I would come to Haag the following day, and I stayed the night in the attic.

The next day, I went to Haag and rang the Possman's bell at Willhelm Prausenstreet, apartment 3i. The good Bep came with me so that I did not need to drive around asking people for the address. She did not go home until she heard from Possman's that I would be in good hands. Bep left telling me that she would do something for my brother in two days.

When I got to know the family, I realized that they were very nice people but poor. The same evening I also met Mr. Possman's brother-in-law. I explained to them the situation I was in, and what I went through. Uncle Ludwig and Uncle David, the way my wife used to call them, were very good people and promised to do everything for me. That night I went to sleep with much more hope. However, I still had a nightmare.

I was running away from a criminal through a window; someone caught me and took me to a place, where I was going to be shot. I was screaming: “I want to live!” The whole family was in my room and woke me up. Bathed in sweat I was lying in my bed apologizing to the good people because I had disturbed their sleep. Mrs. Stella Possman was crying when I told her about my dream. Mr. Possman and uncle David were running around the whole day, and had lodged a petition but the police turned it down.

Another five days had passed, and I was still in the same place. I sold my watch for 36 gulden that day. I went to Amsterdam to see Bep and paid off my debts. She told me that she would go to Cologne the following day in order to help my brother. From there, I went to the American embassy in Rotterdam the same day. I asked them to have my affidavit sent from Vienna to the Netherlands. The ambassador promised to inform me instantly when my papers would arrive from Vienna. He would also let me know how long it would take to receive the American visa. When I arrived at Possman's in the evening, they were relieved. They were worried because I had been gone the whole day.

I was very surprised myself that I had the courage to drive around.

Haag, January 2, 1939. Uncle David came to see me letting me know that he knew a lawyer who provided residence permits for 500 gulden. He had a huge influence on the police. The next day, I went with uncle David to this lawyer and told him my story. I begged him to make an exception and help me even if I could not pay him. The lawyer agreed to help without charging any money. He called the police and told them that he needed a residence permit for a man because this man had to flee Germany because he was threatened by a criminal. If he had to return, he would face death. He added that this man had also papers for the USA and a ticket for the ferry, and that he needed to wait in Haag for four to five weeks until his papers arrived. He said that he would send that man to them (the police) and they should give him a residence permit for six weeks. The police agreed to that deal and told the lawyer he should send the man.

When the lawyer told me that I should go to the police right away, I was shouting: “No, this is a trap! I know the Dutch police. They are merciless. They sent me back to Germany before.” Uncle Davis comforted me and told me that I did not need to be afraid because the lawyer had clarified everything.

I agreed to come with him to the police. I mustered up all my courage and went there, maybe to my own death. In front of the police building I stopped again and refused to go inside. Uncle David, however, dragged me, and there I was standing in front of the superintendent telling him, how I crossed the border. After my report, he said that he would really like to send me back, but that he would not because he had given his word to the attorney. He said that I would get a residence permit for six weeks. I prostrated before the officer, and started crying bitterly out of joy. He gave me a card and said that I was obliged to register with the police every day.

That day I went home to the Possman's filled with joy. I had a lot of new hope, and told everyone that I was safe. I wrote to my dear wife and to everyone, and to my mother who had been able to escape with my brother from Vienna to Poland. I also asked my dear mother to send me some sausage so that I would have something to eat. That same day I went to Amsterdam in order to share my happiness with the Koopman's. They could hardly believe it, and were very happy for me that I got that far.

The dear Bep received a letter that the man was already in Cologne. Therefore, she also went to Cologne in order to bring all the others here. I went back to Haag and had my first calm night without my sleep being interrupted by worries and nightmares.

The next day, I registered at the police the way it was arranged. They wrote down my name and told me to come back every day.

On January 6, 1939, I received a letter from my brother who asked me to help him as fast as possible. I sent him a letter by express mail that Bep Koopman was on her way to help him and he should just trust in her. Two days later I went to Amsterdam thinking I would meet my brother with his family there. Bep was already back but unfortunately without my family. Bep told me that the two people, who had helped us had been arrested by the Dutch police three days earlier, while they had tried to help two other men to flee. She said that she was in Kleye to meet with a woman who also helped people to escape. This woman would lead my brother with his wife and child, and another man.

Bep had picked them up in Cologne and taken them to Kleye to this guide. There, they had to wait one or two days for a good opportunity to escape. At first, I was happy that they had already started the flight, but then, the next day, Bep called me, and told me that I should come immediately because something terrible happened to my brother. I took the next bus to Amsterdam. Bep introduced me to a man from Vienna who had been in the group with my brother. He told me that the woman who had led them to the border had taken my brother's gold watch and all his other things, including his money. She said that she would give everything back to him once they crossed the border. After they went through the forest, my brother saw the German customs office, where the woman wanted to take them all. He was sure that it was a trap and that the woman would have had them arrested.

Therefore, he ran away and managed to reach Dutch ground. Since it was difficult for him to run away with his wife and child, he fled by himself. Now, he does not know what happened to his family.

My brother rented a Dutch car for 30 gulden and went to Amsterdam. I felt horrible and I was in big pain because I blamed it on me that my brother was in this unfortunate situation. “How can I help him now? My mind will not rest until I find a way to save him.” With this news I went back to Haag. Mrs. Koopman gave me a letter that came from Kleye. It was from my brother's son who wrote: “Dear uncle, what kind of people did you send to us? They were terrible betrayers. They sent us directly to the police. My daddy and my mum are arrested, and I am staying with a Jewish family. Please, help my dad and my mum!” This is what the eight-year-old boy had written to me. I wanted to disappear from this world, I could not stand it any longer. I went to every single committee in the Netherlands hoping that they would help me in this matter. Unfortunately, all they could tell me was that they could find a lawyer for my brother in Germany who would defend him. Otherwise, they could not help me. I wrote to my brother's son that I would help his dad because I wanted to comfort the child.

However, to be honest, how could I help?

On January 14, 1939, I received a letter from the American embassy in Rotterdam informing me that my papers had arrived from Vienna. They told me I should come and bring four photographs and a criminal record from the Dutch police. The next day, I went to the police and asked them for the criminal record; they were happy that I would leave soon. I went to the American embassy and gave them the requested papers. The consul promised that he would have me come in a couple of weeks and give me the visa as soon as the affidavit would arrive from Vienna, which the consul there had not sent yet. He said that he would take care of it. Two days later, I was waiting for the mailman. As usual, my dear wife had been writing from London every second day. The mailman had brought a lot of mail that day; a package with food from my dear mother was among the mail. She also wrote that she was hoping that I would be able to leave soon, and that I should write her where my brother Herzel was. I also received a letter from uncle Feder who congratulated me that I had been able to find a safe place momentarily.

He also wrote that it would still take a while for him to be able to flee to the USA. The third letter I opened was from my brother's wife. I could not believe my eyes. She wrote that they had released her after two weeks, and that she had returned with the son to Vienna. She wrote that my brother was supposed to leave for Dachau the next day. She said that I had sent my brother people who lured him on to destruction. The Gestapo said that if my brother received an entry visa they would set him free, but how and where should I get an entry visa. My dear wife wrote me today that she was informed that my visa for London had been sent to my address. I wrote to my sister-in-law that I was not able to do anything for my brother from Holland, although I would probably receive my visa for the USA in several weeks. But then, I would have my papers transfer to London, and leave for London in a couple of days. From there, I would have more possibilities to help my brother. And indeed, with the evening mail my permit arrived.

I did not know how to act because I was filled with joy. Should I dance or cry? I could not believe that I would see my wife and my beloved child. The next day, I went to the English consulate and received the visa. I could have kissed the visa. I could not believe that I should cross the border legally; that I would not need to march in deep snow through the forest just to be send back again to the Nazis. Am I dreaming? Is it really true?

The same day I went to Amsterdam and said good-bye to family Koopman. They wished me success in freeing my brother from the hands of the Germans. The good Bep was crying of joy; she was so happy that she had been able to save me.

Fully excited, I arrived in Liverpool, England. From there, I took the next train to London, where my wife was already expecting me since I had told her about my arrival via telegram. I cannot describe our reunion! I still felt that I was dreaming everything. Was it really true? We took a taxi and went to Mr. Pines on Hesland Road, where my wife was working as a housemaid.

I want to continue my diary about my experiences here in London, every day. My wife introduced me to Mr. Pines. At first I thanked him for all his efforts, and that he made sure that I could come to London. Mr. Pines responded that he was convinced that I would have done the same for him had it been the other way around. He himself went through the same when he had to flee from Russia. Mr. Pines also told me that I should put a bed into my wife's room, and he would talk to me later for he had to work in his shop in the afternoon. During the day, I met Mr. Pines' mother and his brother. The two brothers owned five stores: a chocolate shop, a cigarette shop, and a hairdressing salon; they also had their own chocolate factory.

[On February 2, 1939, I arrived in London.]

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