May 10

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Moda, May 10. 45

My dear Eva! Since about a week I knew that you were getting married but only that. Neither I knew your surname nor your address. Lizette, Lilli and Ticco contrived the most incredible, no, the most credible excuses making me believe that they have only forgotten your letter. These good children didn’t want to excite me by showing me your writing because they wanted to conceal from me that Harry became a soldier. This I learned by a conversation with Ticco. Of course I insisted to bring me your letter. Yesterday Beppo brought it and I found out that Harry is in the South Pacific still but by no means I could make out that he is a soldier, consequently they must know more about him than they will declare to me. Excuse my long introduction. I am no more up to date and in my time we had been taught to do a long-winded prelude before going on with the real theme. Of course in German my style would be less circumstantial.

Sorry, I haven’t learned how a mother has to congratulate her daughter on her marriage in the case she is separated from her by war and ocean. Again I had the old-fashioned feeling of a sitting-hen which has hatched duck-eggs, cackling tremendously seeing her naughty covey diving the first time at duck-manners: “Köpfchen in das Wasser, Ärchchen in die Höhe.” [should be “Köpfchen in das Wasser, Schwänzchen in die Höhe” – head in the water, tail up] Simply I can’t imagine that my ducky Ebi is swimming in the pond and left me waiting and cackling excitingly. That your wedding took place on the 13 of January must have been a great surprise for Harry, whom I beg not to imitate you immediately. I was - Lord is my witness - with you all the time. On the 11 of January I thought: today it is Tillie’s birthday, tomorrow that of Hilda and a day after tomorrow that of Harry and I learned by my friend Gemma Gluck-LaGuardia (yes, she is the sister of the Little flower) sitting with her hand in hand what a great day it is to come of age. That this day shall be a double-festival to our family I couldn’t dream. - But today I will not relate, I will ask you to do it. At first please, introduce me to your husband. How is his first name? Ebi, do you remember your composition about Hagen? Yours was one of the best, only too short, remarked your teacher. In five sentences the German hero was settled. Well, that was all right, but my son-in-law is not the sullen Hagen, is he? I am sure that you are more interested in this theme and your description will be more detailed. Please answer me the following questions:

1.     Are you happy, really very happy? And your husband also?
2.     Where and how did you make his acquaintance? Is he an American by birth? Is he small or tall, thick or thin, blond or dark, light eyes or dark eyes? How old is he?
3.     What is he doing except to be glad that his mother-in-law is over the big lake? Tell him that 2 parents-in-law in hand are better than one in the concentration camp.
4.     How many Creme-Schnitten had you to pay Harry before getting engaged? And Paul, Hilda, Tillie, did they agree with you?
5.     In which way you were you informed of my staying in Sweden? By dispatch, letter, or newspaper?

In conclusion, I will only tell you that I am in Istanbul just one month. Our relations learned the news by the newspaper. Fortune, Estrea, Beppo, Bondi, and his wife cousin Romano paid me a visit just when they read my name in the Gazette. I am too excited today to describe to you how nice they are to me, and I am glad and proud having conquered the affection of the youth. Lilli and Lizette I see every Sunday, Ticco comes during the week to see me, Fortune, Estrea and Beppo come as time permits it. Moda is situated on the Marmara Sea - and to be reached by a boat not too frequently.

For myself war is not yet over inasmuch I don’t know where Vitali is. His last letter was from January 7.45 - I received it on February 7.45 and after three weeks I left Ravensbrück. I hope I can stay here till I know about Vitali. Please council with Harry what to do to be able to come to you. Lizette will tell you about her information at the American Consulate.

Have you received letters from me from Götheburg, Liverpool, Lisbon? How is Harry, Paul, Tillie and Julius, Hilda and Nathan, how is Tillie’s brother [Al?]? Fulda-Anderson family and did you hear from Robert? How is Bertha Schiller, her husband, Arthur and his family?

Please go to the nearest stationers and buy a ream of paper to answer all my questions. Tell Paul, Hilda, Tillie, Harry to send me long letters, I am letter-starved. In my suitcase there are letters from the Drottingholm still which I could not post. Next time I shall send it to you.

With many kisses I remain your
Helen

 P.S. To fill this space I will give you an idea of our Odyssey.

March 1. Departure from Ravensbrück at Lübeck.
Staying there 5 days, via Flensburg at Kopenhagen Helsian, sojourn 5 days
March 11. Arrival Helsingborg (Sweden) Götheberg by railway and now we climbed [boarded?] the Drottingholm”
March 18. Our ship put to sea at the waters of Norway
March 22 Färro Islands - Thors Hava [Tórshavn] 17 March
March 24 Liverpool
April 1 Port Said
April 10 Istanbul
April 15 Moda

---

After my mother had a stroke in 2006, I sorted through her papers to make sure I had everything I needed to be able to handle her affairs. As I searched, I found letters written from my grandmother from Istanbul in 1945-1946, a Red Cross letter from Vienna just before their parents were deported, and one from Buchenwald from Vitali to Helene. In addition, my mother had her cousin Paul Zerzawy’s official papers – school records, bank documents, death certificate from 1948. I was so excited to find all these items that I photocopied them and gave them to Harry since I imagined he hadn’t seen these papers in decades. I had never seen them. Little did I know that Harry had hundreds of letters from Helene and Paul stashed away that he never bothered to mention. Who knows why my mother had some documents and her brother had others?

Today’s letter is one of the first things I read in 2006. Happily for me, the letter was in English and it told me more about my grandmother’s experience than I had known. Until then, I knew the barest of details – she’d sent her children to safety in San Francisco in 1939 and for some reason she and her husband did not follow and ended up in the camps. I knew she’d been traded as a Turkish prisoner and had come to the U.S. via Istanbul and that her husband Vitali was never seen again.  

When I first read this letter, I did not have the context of the hundreds of pages of letters that had been come before. After rereading it in preparation for this post, it feels like a synopsis of the entire archive: even if I had never seen the other letters, I at least had the facts of Helene’s years in Europe after being separated from her children and the sound of her voice.

Although Helene writes of other letters she’d sent on her journey to Istanbul, as far as I know those letters never made it to San Francisco. At this point she is feeling well cared for, before the Joint began moving her around Istanbul and Vitali’s relatives could not always find her. See post of February 2.

This letter reminds me that there’s more research to do. I had recalled that Helene mentioned talking to reporters, but had not remembered that she said that they had published things about her. When I first read her May 1 Joint testimony, it felt like another puzzle piece fitting into place.

Finally, Helene even explains her writing style. In the stories I posted on March 13 and April 22, I commented on how she sets the stage for her story and then takes us in amazing directions. In this letter she apologizes for the long introduction before going on to the “real theme.”

May 9

Mother’s Day

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

As I tell my family story, I realize how much of it is about mothers and daughters – strong women protecting their children from adversity as much as possible, trying to give them a better life, as mothers everywhere have been doing since time immemorial. Several of these women married men who, although charming and intelligent, did not have a practical bone in their bodies, leaving day-to-day affairs to their wives.

Rosa and Helene (and perhaps Helene’s father Adolph?) planned to move from Bohemia to Vienna in the early 1900s. Unfortunately, Rosa’s eldest daughter Ida died in 1902, leaving 4 children under the age of 7. I believe Adolph died at this time as well. Helene moved to Vienna on her own. In 1903, Rosa’s daughter Mathilde married her sister’s widower Julius Zerzawy. She died in 1910 and Rosa again took care of her motherless grandchildren until the end of World War I. It must have been heartbreaking for Rosa to be called upon to bury her daughters and care for her grandchildren, and then to lose three of those five grandchildren to war and illness before 1920. Yet, she soldiered on trying to hold the family together.

We learned a bit about Helene’s grandmother Babette and mother Rosa in the post from February 16.

I think often of my own mother’s strength. At a time when most American teenagers were going to high school dances, Eva and her brother had left their parents behind in Vienna, imagining that they would see each other again in a few months. She finished high school and began earning money to send to her parents, hoping that what little she could provide would ease their lives and perhaps help them make the journey to America. After the U.S. entered World War II in 1941, Eva and Harry stopped receiving letters from their parents and had no idea what was happening to them. Eva completed nursing school and began working. Her brother joined the army as soon as he was able. By 1943, Eva was in San Francisco with neither her parents nor her brother. She must have been terrified that she might never hear from her parents again and that Harry would be killed in the war, particularly given how often he talked in his letters about longing to see combat. In 1945, Eva must have been thrilled to know that her mother was safe, but she also had to find the resources to help her mother come to the U.S. and help support her when she arrived. My mother was always an ultra-responsible person, but I can’t imagine how difficult it was to shoulder the responsibility of supporting her parents (and probably trying to act maternally to her younger brother who wouldn’t have been interested), all before she was 25 years old.

I am touched that one of the few cards my grandmother kept was a Mother’s Day card I gave her at some point in the 1960s.

---

I am so grateful to all of my foremothers. Happy Mother’s Day!

May 7

As the letters jump from time to time, my husband suggested that a timeline would be helpful. I hope this simple chart is useful:

Today’s letter is from Helene in Vienna to her son Harry. He and Eva have been in San Francisco for a little over 6 months.

 Vienna, 7 May 1940

My most beloved pickled herring!

There is a song for the Heurigen [young wine in the fall]: “Vienna becomes beautiful only at night.” The person who wrote this song surely had no idea how right that was. While all of Europe is in danger of war, there is only one oasis: the land of my dreams where everything has remained just as it was. The doctors who have not figured out the secrets of dreams yet would probably laugh at my interpretation. Wouldn’t it be possible that nature has helped out by creating a balance? A fraction of a second creates a dream and takes us to almost heavenly realms, and leads us to believe in the fulfillment of our most nostalgic wishes and this little fraction of a second gives us the power and inspiration to further plans.  Sometimes I can hardly imagine myself how I could always wish: “I just wish the children were outside.” In my motherly way like the raven I even went so far as to be happy about having this wish fulfilled which often seems to me like a confusion of feelings and I ask myself :“Are you really normal?” The expression of joy has been pushed off a bit. Inside, one is happy to know you are outside of this witches’ cauldron and go around with the bitter expression of a corpse. But sometimes it’s the opposite. “Keep smiling” should hide how it feels from the inside. There’s nothing new here. “I’m sitting in the rain waiting” for mail and the possibility of seeing you near me not just in my dreams. Papa calls me nothing but “Mrs. Lowell” and believes he has a formula for his dreams. I don’t wonder about anything else. I wouldn’t even be surprised if I lay down here at night and woke up in Frisco. It would seem so natural for me that I could express my joy not just in antics because it just seems so natural to wake up where one wants to and actually belongs. Four weeks is a long time to wait for mail but they would pass quickly if we were sitting across from each other.

On back, handwritten:
Just received your letter of April 6. Thank you, great joy, [?]
Kisses
Helen

---

I love the wonderful pet names Helene has for her children – a way to show her affection for her children as well as her joy in clever wordplay. In this case she calls Harry “Herring” as a play on his name.

Helene and Vitali are hoping to soon join their children in San Francisco. Vitali has taken to calling his wife “Mrs. Lowell” since their children now go by that last name. I don’t know if it was their intent to change their names upon arrival. My grandmother never did, but by the time she was reunited with her children, they were adults and on their own.

When Roslyn first translated this letter a few years ago, I did not yet realize that Helene made so many references to music and literature. When preparing today’s post, I googled a few of the words she had in quotations marks and found two songs. The first about Vienna at night was popular during World War I.

The song about sitting in the rain appeared in a 1937 film “Zu neuen Ufern” (To New Shores)

 Here are the Lyrics:

Ich steh' im Regen und warte auf Dich, auf Dich
Auf allen Wegen erwart' ich nur Dich, immer nur Dich
Der Zeiger der Kirchturmuhr rückt von Strich zu Strich, ach, wo bleibst Du denn nur? Denkst du nicht mehr an mich?
Und ich steh' im Regen und warte auf Dich, auf Dich
Immer warten nur die Menschen, die wirklich lieben

Kommst Du noch nicht? Wie die fallenden Tropfen am Ärmel zerstieben
Ich steh' im Regen und warte auf Dich, auf Dich
Auf allen Wegen erwart' ich nur Dich, immer nur Dich
Der Zeiger der Kirchturmuhr rückt von Strich zu Strich, ach, wo bleibst Du denn nur?
Denkst du nicht mehr an mich?
Und ich steh' im Regen und warte auf Dich, auf Dich

And a translation from Google Translate:

I stand in the rain and wait for you, for you
On all roads I only expect you, always only you
The pointer of the church clock moves from line to line, oh,
where are you? Don't you think of me anymore
And I stand in the rain and wait for you, for you
Only the people who really love are always waiting

Aren't you coming yet? Like the falling drops on your sleeve
I stand in the rain and wait for you, for you
On all roads I only expect you, always only you
The pointer of the church clock moves from line to line, oh,
where are you?
Don't you think of me anymore
And I stand in the rain and wait for you, for you

May 6

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have a copy of a letter written by Eva (on her 18th birthday) to her parents in Vienna. On April 27 and 28, we saw letters from Eva and Harry to their parents, describing their first few days in Vienna.  I don’t know how we have a copy of this letter – perhaps Eva and Harry kept a copy and brought it in their luggage when they came to the U.S. a few months later.

Yesterday we got the letter about which we had been notified. I did not want to give the enclosed letter to Onkel Isak. Because, as I already mentioned, he is very formal and prim, and that might have been viewed as presumptuous.  

So please, mom, when you write to Onkel Isak, it is better not to mention the letter. An example of Isak’s formality:
#1. You must announce your visit, let him know you are coming. I think that’s all right. A visit may not last more than 1/4 hour.
#2. Yesterday afternoon, I took a walk with Harry and we met our uncle. He invited us for tea. It was all very stiff. Afterwards he asked us if we were going home. We said yes and we said goodbye, but we went a long way in the same direction but on the other side.

Fortune told us that when we visit Onkel Isak, we must kiss his hand since he is very old (58). We did that but he took his hand away almost in a fearful way as if it were unpleasant to him. (Please write about this.) When we visited his brother who is much older than Isak, we were the only ones who did that. I think it is just some sort of preventative feature having to do with money. 

Harry had to go pick up your letter from the uncle yesterday when he went with Albert to do that. Harry said that he had been very arrogant and hadn’t spoken with Albert at all, as if he were a subordinate. Harry said that our furniture was nicer than the ones the uncle had. I actually didn’t see them myself. If it’s possible, please when you, bring bed linens for Harry and me and also we both need a bathrobe, the other things we wished for, and the radio. The radio will bring you a sort of glory.

I don’t feel all that great here, although Fortune and Beppo are trying to make it as nice for us as they can for us. They show us off to all the family members and we don’t understand very much of the whole conversation, not more than maybe “tout à fait la mère ou le père.” As soon as they speak French I do amazingly well. But except for Fortune, most of the people in the family speak Spanish.

For what we’re used to, we don’t really live that well, although Fortune thinks they lives like a prince. The only prince-like thing I can see is that 99% of the vegetables are thrown away as garbage. For example, they have big thick meaty green beans, but all they do is eat what’s inside of the pods. They are being economical in sense. But what bothers me a lot more is that whether you’re respected or not here really only has to do with money.

Mom, you don’t need to think that you had the “fame” of being the worst dressed woman (of course I don’t mean right now, I mean 5 or 6 years ago). Fortune has a lot less than you had back then and it’s much the same for her children. Lisette doesn’t wear a hat so because of that I have to act the same and act like a country cousin.

When I go out and take a walk with Harry though, I really have to dress tip top. I have realized what the culture consists of. Women walk around like Parisian models and they are all fixed up (at the moment, lips the color of cyclamen are very modern).

I eat just as much as I used to eat in Vienna, but Beppo is angry that I eat so little. Here they eat 3 times as much as we do at home but nobody believes me that that’s not good for you. I’m about to explode.

---

 As in the letters from a few days ago, for Eva life in Istanbul compares unfavorably with Vienna in almost every respect. As I mentioned earlier, I wonder how much of that is her true feelings and how much is her trying to make her parents understand how much better she felt life in Vienna had been. Although they never had much money, we have seen that their lives were rich in love, laughter, music, and literature.

May 4

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

In today's letter, Helene writes to her nephew Paul who has recently arrived in New York from Europe. She summarizes the letters we saw on May 2 and 3 that her children sent to her from Istanbul, and the letter explains to us the circumstances of their going. She has not yet begun typing her letters to make sure they got through the censors.

 Vienna, 5 May 1939

My dear Paul, we were waiting with impatience but not with unease your first letter from the land of unlimited possibilities, an attribute that relates to our Germany. I am not surprised that Arthur and his wife received you in a most cordial manner. I was only together with them briefly but the impression was a deep and very pleasant one. I am sure that you will regain your resilience and find a job soon, which, even if you really don’t think it appeals to you will not condemn you to idleness, which must seem like the absolute worst thing to people here. Keep your head high. I see in your spirit already now that your face is becoming more American and with your ability to fit in/assimilate, your circle of friends mostly imported from Europe, will increase considerably. I wish Robert were already there – the poor guy is alone and perhaps melancholy. Oh, the doorbell is ringing and it must be the postman.

Yes, indeed it was the post and we got a letter from Istanbul. Paul, since April 27th, the children are there because of a momentary inspiration on the part of Vitali. There was a satirical article that appeared with name and address about Vitali, the consequences of which we couldn’t really know just yet. A few weeks ago, a reporter unknown to us showed up and had a long consultation with Vitali. On the next day, another fellow came from this newspaper and he wanted an interview. You know Vitali. The man went away and after that appeared this article I mentioned. We made a pilgrimage to the Stubenring [their shop]. Four days later there appeared in the same newspaper, the article of the first visitor, who of course without naming names claimed exactly the opposite. If the first article writer had something else other than publicity in mind, one thing he certainly did manage to accomplish, the children were sent away “just in time.” Harry, in a morning, he managed to get all the visas - Hungarian, Yugoslavian, and Bulgarian; Vitali got the tickets; and Eva took care of the sewing with Jo and her mother who is 81 years old the rest of the clothing; and I packed the suitcases. And two days later, we sat with each other and 17 pieces of luggage in the Orient Express and rode to the border. This short trip, which has many interesting moments, I will describe to you next time. After a 48-hour trip, the children arrived safe and sound. Their detailed, illustrated reports are so well written that you could publish them. In succinct sentences they give a vivid picture of our next domain.

With the trip of the children, we have managed to pull off a very clever chess move. Apart from the actual purpose of the trip, we also managed to get an automatic extension of the passport and the children both got their feet on native soil before their 18th birthday. And finally, Onkel, a sort of Turkish Marco Polo, managed to have the effect that the General Consul here took off his “invisibility cloak” in front of Vitali and let us see our whole file of paperwork. We were able to see that our application with all of its papers and photos was all in the folder just exactly the same as the day we turned it in. Vitali is now very enthusiastic about following up on it. Whatever and whoever Onkel is, we now know because of what the children have said, that no person, not excluding our ancestors, may come to him without announcing themselves and getting permission. But for my children there are special provisions. They all want Vitali to come soon and are sure he will get a job there.

There is a complication. The children were supposed to go to the American Consulate and report themselves right away. There is no Turkish quota. It would be possible to intervene here because our consulate is not allowed to get involved in emigration matters. But we will certainly find the means and the ways. Unfortunately, I have not heard from the Zentners since January. I have only heard from Bertha Schiller that Tillie has an agent who is dealing in this matter. 

The children will write to you themselves. Paula Bekhor is now visiting us quite often. She is a charming person, a really great person. I don’t understand why you withheld her from me as a friend. We sympathize very strongly with her.

Paula Friedman and her mother also followed my invitation. They say hello. I think Paula will be going to England soon.

Written around edges:
Greetings to the Schillers to whom I will write separately.
Marie is well. I told her about your arrival.

---

Paul has just arrived in America, the first in the family from Europe to do so. He is staying with Arthur Schiller in New York and hopes to find work there. Paul’s and Arthurs’s mothers were first cousins although they may not have met since Paul’s mother died in 1902.

We saw the newspaper article Helene mentions in the post from April 7. Although I have just two newspaper articles about Vitali, it appears he showed up in newspapers at least a few more times, including the second article Helene mentions here which I have never seen. Another research project!

Helene talks about their pulling off “a very clever chess move” by sending their children to Istanbul before they were 18 years old. This was just under the wire, since Eva turned 18 just a week or so after their arrival. I’m glad at least one step in their efforts to escape Vienna went smoothly.

May 3

Today we have excerpts from two letters written a year apart from soldier Harry Lowell to his sister Eva in San Francisco. In letter from 1943, he is stationed in Fort Francis E. Warren in Wyoming for quartermaster training. In the second from 1944, he is stationed in New Guinea.

May 2, 1943

Dear Sis,

First of all, many returns of the day and all that (how old are you anyhow?) I trust that my present has reached you by now. How do you like it? …

Thank you very much for your letter; a soldier wants a lot of mail as I have found out. Get people (I don’t care who) to write to me; thank you. That poem was pretty good. …

After our Co. “C” volleyball team defeated all eleven companies of the first regiment, three of the “C” team were selected for the regimental team (I am in it, of course). You ought to see me among all the seven footers; it makes me look like Gulliver. Next week is the tournament which will decide the championship of the whole big fort. We played tackle football at mass games yesterday; we played without any protection at all. What a slaughter! There wasn’t one of us that didn’t limp to the barrack holding some part of his anatomy. We really had a lot of fun, by gum. …

Cheyenne is a pretty small town; the civilians don’t care much for soldiers at all. But I’ll get acquainted all right. (With my charm – it’s a cinch – naturellement Ha, ha! Sheech!) I’ll do my best anyway. I am getting tired of looking at soldiers all the time. When I go to town, I see nothing but soldiers, soldiers, and soldiers. The number of the inhabitants of Cheyenne is equal to that of the fort. It is easy to understand the feelings of the Cheyenne people towards soldiers. … 

Well nurse, I gotta close; there are a few more letters to be written.

Repeating my hearty good wishes, I remain

Your humble brother,
Harry.

P.S. I couldn’t get a frame for the portrait. Get one yourself. 

The portrait Harry mentions may be the one below.

---

New Guinea
May 2, 1944

 Dear Eva,

I herewith acknowledge four of your delightful little V-letters, dated April 6, 10, 12, and 18. I must say your writing habits have improved; I remember the times when I was lucky to hear from you once a month. Is it because you have nothing to do or have you finally come to the realization that it’s nice to have a big brother? But seriously, it’s really nice to hear from you twice a week; it sort of keeps the bonds together, you know.

I started this letter with the intention of dedicating it entirely to your forthcoming birthday but I got on the wrong track. (If there has been any strong sarcasm in my first paragraph, forgive me.) Coming back to your birthday, it seems but a few years that I saw you in the cradle – a bundle of helplessness and shrieks. (Who would ever have thought that a pretty woman would develop from that little bundle, oh yes!) I remember quite clearly when Father and Mother showed you off in the neighborhood. Good old memories, it seems like yesterday! 

Well, sister, I had a few presents in mind that I would have liked you to have, but circumstances do not allow me to send them to you from here; take the good will for a present and cash in on it when I return.

How does it feel to grow older every year? (The reason I ask you that is because men here in New Guinea grow old semi-annually.) Now in conclusion of my birthday address I wish you many happy returns. Amen.

So you would not listen to the advice of your brother and others regarding that Standard Oil deal, eh? It had to be a pilot that changed your mind; anyway, I am glad you changed your mind.

I have been transferred from my old company to Headquarters. It’s kind of tough to leave an outfit that I have been with for so long, but I’ll get used to my new surroundings soon. I am now, what is called a desk soldier. … Yep, it’s a great life! At the induction center I was asked what I’d like to do in the army and what branch I’d like to get into. I told the classification officer that I’d like to get in the fight and emphasized that I do not want to get into the Quartermaster or work in an office. He complied with my request and shoved me into the QM; anyway, I was fortunate enough to be part of a truck outfit which gave me a chance to fire machine guns, AAA guns, and bazookas, and to follow a semi-infantry training program. Now, fate has willed that I be at a desk. You know, at times I feel like…a slacker – sitting at a desk while other men are out there getting killed or enduring hardships. I know you’ll say I don’t know when I’m well off – I do – but that’s the way I feel sometimes (Well, I got that off my chest.).

I received the March copy of the Readers’ Digest for which I thank you…. 

There aren’t any interesting events that I could talk about, so I’ll come to the close of my letter. I am surprised I could write as much as I did considering the censorship regulations, etc.

Give my best regards to Paul, Ursula and family (including the serpents, lizards, and rabbits)….

Keep up boosting my morale by writing.

Your loving brother,
Harry

P.S. I am looking forward to some snapshots and photos of you.
P.P.S. My new address is on the envelope.

---

In earlier letters from Harry, we learned of Eva’s desire to get a job far away. He has been trying to convince her not to take a job with Standard Oil. At this point she has chosen not to do so, but not because of any advice from family.

For those of you paying close attention, Harry is Eva’s younger brother. In this letter he pokes fun and imagines that the roles were reversed. He may have been thinking of this photo from 1924 in Vienna, with Harry in the foreground and Eva cut off at the side:

I have one other artifact that I think was a birthday gift – I remember hearing it in the 1960s or 1970s. It is a cardboard record that Harry made while he was in the army. In my memory of it, he is singing “Happy Birthday” to Eva, presumably in 1943 or 1944. I tried playing it on a turntable this year but was unsuccessful. You can read more about such recordings and hear an example of one here. 

Recording sent from Harry to Eva. Postage was 1-1/2cents.

May 2

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have two letters, one in German and one in English, written from Helene in Vienna to her family in San Francisco. You can see that Helene’s English is far less fluent here than it was by the time she was writing letters from Istanbul five years later.

Vienna, 2, May 1941

My dear children!

I probably only got Paul’s letter from April 8 because he sent it registered. And so I ask you for as long as we are still here to also register your letters. I imagine that at least 10 letters are on the way and for some of them it is really rather questionable if we will ever get them. In any case, I ask you to repeat what interesting things you have written us (school matters, etc). We are interested in everything that you have told us, but I would be happy if you could fill this postal gap as much as you still remember the events. I will be writing to Hilda, Paul, Bertha Schiller and Erwin Fulda in the next couple of days.

We are healthy and are waiting from day to day for mail and for the declaration from the consulate. The next letter will be more detailed.

I kiss you dearly
Helen

---

Vienna, 2, May 1941

Dear Tillie!

It was not indolence, when I Paul requested to say you our thanks for all troubles, excitements and expenses, simply I felt myself unable to find words to express my love, gratefulness and devotion. I hesitated to alarm you, waiting for a wonder, but the wonder did not appear and when I sent our cable, it was not the last chance only, it was the only way out. One inconvenience relieved one other and the most dangerous affaire was the possibility to lose our nationality. This fear was not unfounded. Fortunately we had your cable that our affidavit and tickets for ship and railway are on the way. So we hope to have no accident till we have the information from the American Consulate.

It is terrible, that we have no mail since February 17 from the children, just one day after sending our cable. I am sorry I am not in sorrow for them, but I am angry, that they do it for us. Paul’s letter from April 8 we received, because it was recommandet. Please tell the children to write only twice a month, but registered, till post functionally normal.

From Paul and the children I know, you are much on the way and in his last cable Paul mentioned that you all are well and that makes me happy. I hope to see you very soon and our inconvenienced moments had been a bad dream only.

With my heartiest greetings to you and Julius, I kiss you
Helen

---

Tillie was Helene’s first cousin, the daughter of Helene’s father’s brother. She was born in San Francisco and had married a wealthy man. She was apparently a formidable personality, calling the shots and knowing what was best for everyone. From what my mother told me, Tillie decided who she and Harry would live with and gave (sometimes unsolicited) advice about choices they should make in terms of school and work. Eva and Harry had different ideas and as we’ve seen from some of Harry’s war letters, they did everything they could to get out from under the local family influence. Tillie died in November of 1961. I have only a hazy memory, probably one of my first, of going to her house for a visit. My mother spent a lot of time prepping me and ordering me to be good. I don’t know how successful she was since I was only 2-1/2 years old. I am so grateful that Tillie helped make it possible for my mother and uncle to come to the U.S. If only her efforts on behalf of Helene had been as successful.

May 1

Today’s document was found in the JDC Archives item ID 867174.

Soon after I contacted historian Corry Guttstadt, she sent me a copy of the document we see today. It is painful and heartbreaking, but so important. If you click on the JDC link above, you’ll see that at the bottom of the page it says “more.” Unfortunately, whatever more there was is not in the digital file. I’ve spent many hours over the past year combing through the JDC Archives, and could not find a second page. When I asked JDC about it, they said we’d have to wait until after Covid as the originals files would need to be checked and were not open at this time.

Helene gave the following “story” to an unknown interviewer.

ISTANBUL (MODA-PALAS) May 1, 1945

Story of Mrs. Helena Cohen of Vienna, who says she is a Turkish citizen:

“My husband and I were taken from Vienna in October 1943. The Germans separated us. They told us we would be together but it wasn’t true. That was the first lie. They brought me to the capital of Moravia and I stayed there a fortnight. I told them I was a Turkish citizen but that made no difference. They said “You are living in Vienna and a Jew is a Jew.” There was an epidemic in the camp at Brno. The group of women there included nine Slovene partisans, young girls from 18 to 25. In November I came to Ravensbruck. 

Ravensbruck is a little town surrounded by a high wall - with electric wires. We arrived in a bus and all our clothes were taken off. We were given a very thin jacket and trousers, stockings, and boots of wood. That was all. Then we came into a block-dwelling. You must think of a hut in the mountains for 250 people. But living there were 1200 to 1600. Every block had four rooms, two for sleeping and two so-called dining rooms. Beds were in layers of three. Two or three persons in a bed.

We were first called at 3 in the morning by a siren and had to stand from 5:30 to 7 for counting, outside the block. In the afternoon we had to stand again but not so long, only for work assignment…a half hour maybe. This third call was after 5pm to 8m, 9, or 10 o’clock for counting. This third call was for the first year. The second year in Ravensbruck we stood only twice.  

There were about 30,000 women in Ravensbruck (between Berlin and Stottin). All things were built by women. When we came the women over 50 were knitting. Making stockings. Very hard work. Young people were in the factories making parts for ammunition. Also trade goods for Berlin. And a factory for furs. Prisoners had furs when they came. They were taken and were prepared for the military. Not all the furs though. Some were for trade. The SS women were overseers. They were terrible —- beasts. Sadists. Took pleasure in torturing the prisoners. For a trifle a person was sent t the strafe block for a beating, entirely separated from the others. No one could go in there. Bad food - dreadful treatment - blows - all underfed. I lost in three months 25 kilos, about 50 pounds. I weighted 75 kilos when I came there.

You were considered ill only if you have over 40 degrees (104). There was one physician in the hospital (SS man) and a great many women physicians who were also prisoners. A “Schwester” in charge decided whether a patient would have a remedy or not, not a physician. There were only three remedies - aspirin, urotropine and carbon for dysentary. Operations were performed without narcotics, sometimes a local anesthetic. Trials were made on sound people. We named them “rabbits”. There was typhoid all the time in the camp. Scarlet fever, too. But mostly typhoid.

Nourishment consisted of in the morning a cup of so-called coffee - brown water without sugar. Excuse me, I don’t say it couramment [French for “fluently”]. I am a little nervous. Lunch was a vegetable boiled in water. Sometimes a little fat in it but mostly not. Some potatoes. Supper we received soup with barley that was not too bad. The first year we had one third of a loaf of bread a day. Later only one quarter and in the last three months twice a week only a slice. We were allowed to write letters once every month. In Buchenwald it was only every two months. People who were in the camp a long time and received parcels regularly by Red Cross or relations could stand it. People without parcels were doomed to starvation. The last months I received parcels from Vienna friends but the first six months I hadn’t. There were many children born in the camp. There was one whole block for pregnant women. The children weren’t too badly off. They had milk and the diet for sick people.

more

One thing that struck me when poring through the archives is that I did not come across similar testimonies from other passengers from the Drottningholm. It seems incredible to me that Helene’s was the only one. In my January 14 post, you can see the challenge of looking for documents- there I included a screenshot of the “titles “of documents – the majority do not have identifying features other than date - if you click on the link above, you’ll see that the the title is “Untitled Typewritten Document”. Thankfully, I knew the date of this document, but my search still involved hours of looking. On the other hand, it was much easier for me though than it had been Corry, who did her research before it was online and had to look through boxes of letters and documents at the JDC, I think in Jerusalem.

April 28

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we see the continuation of the letter we saw yesterday, this part written by Eva 5 days later, after she and Harry have been in Istanbul for a few days. Apparently they have received letters from their parents in Vienna.

Istanbul, 2 May 1939

We are very happy that everything is going so well in Vienna and that your cause is going well. It will be easy to come to Uncle Isak and speak to him. However Uncle Isak is not a normal mortal. You have to report your visit in advance. But not all relatives are accepted for a visit. Only the Sevilya family (2+ times a year) and our much-honored family. Then you have the finest courtly manners with a kiss of the hand and a bow.

Isak loves to see when the children of less wealthy people are raised like millionaires and so he is sympathetic to us. If you want something from him, he won’t do it. It is only of value if he does it without having been asked.

His wife is overly nice and that is really only because she doesn’t come from such good circumstances. In our very large family, there are only two halfway beautiful beings. One is the daughter of Estrea and the other one is Yomtov’s wife. She’s really beautiful and very nice and she speaks German very well. Salomon, Isak’s brother, also has a very large family. His son in law is a relative of the Kantor Assoc. They have invited us to Prinkipo. Rachel’s daughter lives with her and has a son who looks like a little monkey. Bondie’s wife Susanne is fatter than she appears on the picture. I don’t want to reveal anything more. She told me her whole life story in gestures.

And Bondie is angry that we speak neither Spanish nor French… Fortune told me that (of course!!!!) it was a money match, but not in Italy, but rather here!

A cousin by the name of Sarah Romano is the only relative outside of Isak’s family who has a nice apartment. Saturday was a big family reception. They even have a radio which is apparently really quite something here. She has a son who is an absolute beauty. He has bright red hair and an absolutely beautiful nose.

Everyday, different people come who increase the number of relatives we have. They all are very interested in knowing what you are up to and they invite us over. I’ve only told you about the most important of the family members. If I wanted to write about all of them, I wouldn’t even be finished by tomorrow. These people speak all sorts of different languages but they are just starting to learn Turkish.

Right after the phone call, Yomtov told us that we must stay for a long time. Nobody here understands what a quota is and why we are not considered to be Turks. Yomtov is going to the consulate today to see what he can do from here. Fortune does not want you to leave again when you’re here. She says Uncle should get a job for Papa so he can stay. I should work here as a German correspondent.

You should have a picture of what it looks like here. Our furnishings in Harry’s room were more beautiful and bigger than what you have in the whole house. Everybody raves about Isak’s and Yomtov’s apartment. For me it seems like middle class Vienna accommodations. With our furniture, we would be considered millionaires.

For today just lots of greetings and kisses

EVA

P.S. We have been running around for three days trying to find culture but we haven’t found it. What we found today was bad culture. The washer lady was working with a cigarette in her mouth.

Many greetings to Jo.

My mother had definite opinions about how things should be and how people should act — and clearly she was already that way at the age of 18!

April 27

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships. Unfortunately I do not have a family tree for Vitali’s family - this letter is the closest thing I have to understanding his family relationships.

Today and tomorrow we have a letter from Eva and Harry after they arrived in Istanbul where they had gone to get their passports to be able to go to the U.S. written to their parents in Vienna. In her letter from April 25, 1941, Helene refers to her children’s leaving two years earlier for Istanbul. It must have been nerve-wracking for children and parents for Eva and Harry to travel on their own in those challenging days. Eva was about to turn 18 and Harry was 15.

You can see that the letter was typed double sided to save money and was virtually illegible. Although it looks like one long paragraph, instead of paragraph breaks, my mother added a few extra spaces. In order to make it easier for Roslyn to translate, I transcribed it.

Istanbul 27/4//39 2:13am

Dear parents!

As we thought it would be, the ride through Hungary was very boring. But every 5 minutes, officials came by who helped us pass the time. One of them looked at the passport, he came a few minutes later and demanded to see the tickets, wrote something on them, and then another one came and looked at the tickets and tore something off. So they were playing stille-Post [“silent mail” - like our game of “Telephone”]. One customs official asked how much money we had and if we had new things with us. We denied that and he decided he was satisfied with our answer.

We got out in Belgrade because the train was going to be stopped there for a long time. We didn’t see much of the city, but just a few buildings that were lit up. We’d hardly gotten out when the train left. A newspaper boy led us across all of the tracks to get to our car in the train. The train was postponed till midnight. The part of the trip in Yugoslavia was really boring. It didn’t really get to be a pretty trip until Bulgaria. The mountains there remind us very much of Gesaüse [a national park in Austria].

In Sofia we had a two hour stop. We went with a technician and a senior storm leader who was involved in setting up a factory in Kazanlik [a town in Bulgaria]. We went through the city with them, but we didn’t get very far because the suburbs are quite big. There was a lot of fruit there. What we did see of Sofia was very pretty. But trucks were awfully bad and dirty. It’s really not that different from here. When our travel companion got out, we had two others get in to replace him. They told us they were technicians who wanted to set up a German paper and cellulose factory. We couldn’t see the region outside Bulgaria because it was already night and so we don’t know anything about Greece. At the Turkish border, there was the only customs check. They opened the suitcases and the other things were too shabby for them to bother with. The region was really pretty bleak, just a few storks were the only sign of life until we got to the suburbs of Istanbul. But then gradually we saw some mountains. The most beautiful part of the whole trip was when we saw the sea. That was really lovely. We could admire all the shadows. Shortly before we reached Istanbul we saw the city’s panorama from behind the wooden huts which were shabby and crumbling. That is more beautiful certainly than it seems in pictures. The whole things looks like castles in the air of poor people in these huts that we saw.

When we arrived we were picked up by Uncle Beppo and his daughter. We didn’t get the passport back. I had to go to the police station with Uncle Beppo and was asked why I didn’t have a Turkish visa. There is a Turkish law that a passport is only for one person. [Harry and Eva had a single passport]. With money and some good words, it’s possible to achieve quite a bit. The police chief talked to me for a while and said I should not go to the consulate and that I should just stay with my Turkish citizenship, However, and that is absolutely essential, I would have to learn Turkish. I have started already and can count to 1,000. Uncle Beppo said I have a good head for this. You would be amazed at how well I speak English. I speak English with cousin Lisette, and since we talk a lot, I am getting a lot of practice. We went for a visit to Uncle Isak. There, everybody was amazed that I could speak neither Spanish nor French. An office girl talked to me in English, but then she said she was so sorry English was so bad, she would have liked to know more about Vienna. What do you say about my newly developed talent for languages? With Uncle Isak I didn’t really speak much - he was really quite busy. He said he had already started to deal with the issue of your passport. Papa, you have no idea how many relatives you have! Aunt Fortune asked me over and over about you - why didn’t you come? If you were to come, would you stay here if you found employment? Really, every one of the relatives who were working in uncle’s office was very interested in you. There is so much more to write but I will let the others tell you. You need a lot more space than this.

For today, the best kisses and greetings.

EVA

P.S. Everything is cheaper here in Vienna although it seems to be the same stuff.

 ———

Harry Cohen
c/o Josef de Sevilya
Sisli, Sagdiç Sokak 14
Bomonti, ISTANBUL!

Dear Parents!

The trip was very lovely except for Hungary and Yugoslavia. We had a whole compartment to ourselves, because the people who got in didn’t even dare to enter our compartment. In Sofia we had a 2 hour layover which we used to take a good look at the city. I will send you pictures soon. I thought Sofia would have been more modern. There’s fruit there!!!!!!!!! I bought a grapefruit for about 9 lewa, which is about 27rpf. Here in Istanbul there were no grapefruits until two years ago. Have you ever heard an international waterfall? You will see such a thing in the form of customs officials and train conductors. Every half hour one of the two came into our compartment and said “Pasaportapasaportpassbittepasporta, billetbilletefahrkartenbilletpas” at the speed of 25km/hour. Istanbul is very beautiful. I only saw it when I was riding through, but soon I will have a look at it with Beppo. For the central European taste, Istanbul is not very modern. I am now the private tutor for Albert. Beppo wants him to learn English and German. Albert is 13 years old and only knows French and Turkish. We converse with gestures, bits of Turkish and French, and the dictionary. I’ll write more soon since we want to get this letter into the mail. Harry.

---

This letter was such a gift to me – hearing my mother’s young voice. I’m not sure how we have these letters – perhaps the children brought them to the U.S. in their luggage? We do not have copies of later letters sent to Helene and Vitali in Vienna – presumably they were destroyed when they were deported to the Ravensbrück and Buchenwald in 1943.

Both Eva and Harry go out of their way to disparage what they see on the way to and in Istanbul. This was also true in an early letter from Eva upon her arrival in San Francisco. I wonder whether they truly thought there was no place as wonderful as their home in Vienna or whether they were trying to comfort their parents. Or perhaps a bit of both.

April 26

Today we see a letter from the JDC Archives from Arthur Fishzohn who was working for the American Joint Distribution Committee in Istanbul to Charles Passman at the Joint in Jerusalem. In earlier posts of April 16 and 20, we learned about the lives of the Turkish prisoners who arrived on the Drottningholm. Helene described her experience in the posts February 2 and March 4.

25th April, 1945

Dear Mr. Passman:

     Re. Drottningholm

After sending my letter to Mr. Packer dated 20th April, 1945, I was in telephonic communication with him. Mr. Packer felt that inasmuch the passengers had been permitted to land and were being housed in hotels, that it would not be advisable for the Embassy to exert further pressure on the authorities at this time….

It is difficult to hazard a guess how long it will be before Ankara reaches decisions on these Drottningholm cases. Although all of the group of passengers were interrogated by the authorities here, during the time they were on the tender, word came through from Ankara that such interrogations had not been prepared in proper form. Accordingly, on Friday and Saturday of last week, police officials again interrogated all of the people at the hotels and the answers to formal questionnaires were typed out by them. I was told yesterday by Mr. Brod that the police had advised him that the questionnaire forms, as presently filled out, were due to go to Ankara today to the Minister of the Interior at Ankara. Obviously, nothing can be expected by way of decision until these questionnaires have been studied.

I have visited the several hotels on two occasions in the past week and I have spoken with many of the internees. They are all quite content with the food they are receiving as well as with the lodging accommodations. In Moda, we are housing in two small hotels most of this group, about 90 persons. (Moda is about twenty minutes ferry ride from Istanbul.) The hotels in which they are accommodated are boarding houses and, of course, the internees are especially comfortable because they are not confined to their dwelling quarters only, as they have the use of the gardens in each case. They are not permitted to leave the garden premises, but relatives and friends are permitted to visit the internees. ….

All of the internees seem to be quite content, but, of course, are quite eager about having Police surveillance removed.

.…In the meantime, the matter of accommodating at the Bene Berith or Grand Rabbinate, or some other institution, the other repatriates who we hope will be released by the authorities, is still being considered by the Repatriate Committee. If this can be worked out, the amounts of the grants to such people as will be accommodated in this fashion, will be materially reduced. 

Sincerely Yours,
Arthur Fishzohn

Cc: Mr. Harold Trobe, Lisbon

---

One of the things that strikes me about the Joint documents and my grandmother’s letters from Istanbul is the role of bureaucracy and penny pinching that made the lives of these prisoners almost as difficult as when they were in the camps. They had no control over their lives, they were moved from place to place to save money for the Joint, they were not allowed to leave their lodgings and were under police surveillance like criminals. This must have been disconcerting and confusing, to say the least. We read of the migrants and refugees today and their experience is so similar. Just because you land in a “safe” country, life is not suddenly easier, and may never be.

In what felt almost like “normal” times, last week my husband and I met a friend at the Cantor Arts Center at Stanford University and saw an exhibit called “When Home Won’t Let You Stay: Migration through Contemporary Art.” Unsurprisingly, everything in the exhibit resonated with my grandmother’s story. This mirror reflects (pun intended) the feelings that were passed on to me from my grandmother’s and mother’s experiences.

Everything #4, 2004 by Adrian Piper

April 25

Today’s letter to Helene’s children and nephew in San Francisco appears to have been added to the envelope of the one we saw yesterday – today’s is Clipper letter number 93a, while the letter from April 24 was number 93. The censorship numbers are also the same.

 Vienna, 25 April 1941

My dear children, including Paul!

Do you know what day is today? Two years ago today, a certain pair of siblings went to Istanbul. Do you remember? It’s been 2 years but it seems like yesterday, but I can’t think at the same time that we have not seen even a single line written from you for such a long time. The second bunch of letters in this month has not reached us, but I have no right to grumble or complain because Paul’s happy news came yesterday and with every hour I am waiting for mail, that is another step into our heavenly kingdom. I do not trust myself to imagine what it will be like when you meet us at the pier, because secondly it always turns out differently than how one first thinks it’s going to be. If I think about the way Harry looked when we saw him when you were traveling through here at the Ostbahnhof [East Train Station] and when we received you there, my knees shake still. So different it must have been for the godly Faust when Gretchen uttered that famous quote. (Pardon, she wasn’t that crazy that she actually quoted Berlichingen. [another Goethe work]) I wasn’t in the mood to laugh then and in the later weeks I wasn’t either when I was thinking of any possible way that I could give my Harry, whose batteries seemed to have run out, a boost to get him on the right track. But I do not have to worry about experiencing such unpleasant surprises when I see you next and you don’t either. Papa has changed very little. There’s a little bit of grey hair around his temples, it actually looks quite nice. It fits his appearance and he looks now quite a bit like Uncle Isaac, maybe the way Isaac looked about 10 years ago. I however look like one of Verdi’s witches, but as such I would certainly get a beauty prize. You will see and in the first joy of seeing each other, you won’t notice it right away. I would love to call to myself: “get down off the goat [double meaning: goat/desire] because before we get the declaration from the Consulate and we’ve burned our bridges, it’ll take quite a while. I do enjoy imagining: “on such and such a date your ship will sail” and until then may my heart remain calm and not do anything stupid.

I hope the next wave of mail which comes to Europe will bring a few lines. I actually took the whole morning off this morning to write to Tillie and Hilda, but my thinking cap is not working well, especially for English it needs a detailed inspection and needs to be oiled. Please get ready for a whole pile of letters to arrive in the next few days which express my thanks. I greet all of you and all of our dear ones and I will end with my best wishes and my most sincere greetings to you. 

I hug you affectionately and I kiss you
Helen

---

The first line of today’s letter resonates with me – like my grandmother, I am someone who remembers and likes to mark all important dates and anniversaries, much more than the average person. I often am surprised by the synchronicity of something that happens on a particular day that has echoes to the past. As I write this, I realize that my entire 2021 blog is based on this idea – what happened on this particular date in the past?

April 24

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

On April 8, we saw a telegram from Paul regarding money for Helene and Vitali’s journey. On April 22, Paul sent a follow-up telegram which is referenced in today’s letters from Helene to Paul and her children.

Money for 2 train
ship tickets Joint New York
The money has been spent Joint will inform the consulate
Understand everything is fine.
See you soon.
Paul

---

Vienna, 24 April 1941

Dear Paul,

I was really quite despondent until your calming dispatch from the 22nd of this month arrived and brought me back to life. Many, many thanks. I am so glad that you mentioned that you are all doing well. “See you soon”, how wonderful that sounds! I was informed from two different sources today that American letters have arrived so I had a new glimmer of hope that I might get to nibble on those as well. There must be, if the children are writing in regular rhythm, quite a lovely bunch of them on the way so I would like to know to which number you have received my letters. Now that we are sure of getting train tickets, which is very great happiness for us, but you probably can’t even appreciate how great it is. We are so eternally grateful to all those who helped make this happen. Please give everyone my greetings and my thanks. I will get Erwin’s address from the affidavit. Tomorrow I will write to Tillie and Hilda, and to you and the children as well if there is time. I have planned to do so much that I need more hands and feet to do it all. So Paul, thank you again! I think the dispatch came in good time.

Hugging you most lovingly
Helen

_______

My dear children! Did my telegram with our modest wishes get your tongue so that you forgot how to write? Is that true? Although Paul’s dispatch is dated yesterday, I am still missing your letters so much because I want to know what you’re doing and to ask you to not lose your good mood and to be happy and full of good things. What’s new they want to know? Tout va très bien, Madame la Marquise, tout va très bien, tout va très bien, just that Paul’s uncle and his wife have been notified that they have lost their citizenship. A strange couple, these two! They just accept it as if it were nothing. I often think “either they have no nerves or they have nerves of steel.” However, I always thought Paul’s aunt was quite a bundle of nerves. When I heard of this mess, I had to think of the inscription on a wayside cross at Madonna di Campiglio, on which you read: “Ha, I knew it,” said Everl: “A dog came into the kitchen, etc., etc.” No that’s not true, this is what it said:

[in Viennese dialect]

St. Barthelma is trash like the dog
A sudden bump on the ground
Do you think he cried?
Nah, crap, he laughed!

Tout va très bien, tout va très bien, only that Papa received a summons to appear on Bräunerstrasse today. I hope he will be allowed to stay until 19 June like me. The telegram that I received yesterday caused my personal barometer to go up to clear with only a few clouds. Yesterday it was mostly dark and stormy. If I, however, get letters from you then it immediately changes to no clouds, beautiful weather. Papa wanted to send you roses via Fleurope, but unfortunately they couldn’t fill the order and Everl will have to spend her birthday without any wishes coming at the right time. Please smile like when you get your picture taken, Everl, okay? Maybe among those letters piling up there will be new pictures from you? We hope that if we get any information from the Consulate, we will be able to dispatch something to you. 

That’s enough for today, I will continue tomorrow. 
Heartfelt, Turkish, honey kisses
Helen

---

Harry quoted the same French song in a letter to his sister four years later, which we saw on January 21. The song is happy and high spirited while telling the story of every disaster imaginable, just like the world Helene was experiencing.  

April 21

Today we have another letter from soldier Harry Lowell to his sister Eva.

April 21, 1943

Greetings from the “Lone Ranger” state!

As you know I was put in the Quartermaster Corps – very much against my will, I must say. I was classified for motor operations and maintenance; after five weeks’ basic training I’ll be trained for that branch of the Quartermaster Corps. However, one can never be sure of things in the army; nobody can tell what lies before him here. I do hope I’ll get in some fighting unit. Army life seems to agree with me very much, indeed; let me describe to you one day’s routine at Fort Warren.

At about 5:20am, the corporal turns on the lights and shouts a few encouraging words at us; we reciprocate by muttering all sorts of names under our blankets. But we get up ten minutes later lest we receive special detail which usually means about 18 hours of the nicest jobs. After getting up we have just half an hour to clean up, shave, dress, shine our shoes, make our beds, and sweep and mop the barracks. Before we finish comes the order: “Fall out, double time!” At a terrific speed we put on our helmets, rifle belts, and leggings and hustle down to the field to stand Reveille. A few minutes later we are dismissed; then we wait for the breakfast bell. 

Here you see the whole Co. C answering the “chow” call:

Inside the mess hall takes place a contest of out-grabbing each other. Have you ever fed peanuts to monkeys at the zoo? Imagine the monkeys with a uniform and you have a picture of us at “chow.” This picture repeats three times a day – breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Woe to him who acts civilized! He’ll end up with a mere cup of coffee and bread and butter, all other food having been devoured by those who followed the law of self-preservation. I have proven myself an expert at that law; I have acquired that certain “the-hand-is-quicker-than-the-eye” grab.

After breakfast we march out to the drill field and are given calisthenics and drilling. Two hours of that and we receive training in map reading, chemical warfare, etc. Then comes mail call; the rush to the mail carrier is equal to that to “chow.” About ten minutes are left for reading when the familiar bell calls for lunch. In the afternoon we get drilling and classes again; at five we stand retreat which is followed by the inevitable, but very welcome “chow.” After that the day is done and the time is ours until eleven when we have to be in bed. Fort Warren has many recreational facilities with which to assure the soldiers a few relaxing hours.

Last Saturday the first regiment had a track meet in which all its twelve companies took part. The contest included all phases of track sports. I won a point for Company C in the mile run. I wasn’t first that time, but I am sure of bringing home the bacon at our next meet in May when I’ll have gotten used to this high altitude which makes breathing difficult. We defeated Company B in volleyball yesterday and we will do our best to beat the other ten companies also. It will be a feather in our cap because our Company C is the rookie company of the camp.

I haven’t been able to get a pass to go to town yet because we are confined to the camp. Someone in the company got scarlet fever all of a sudden.

It’s getting toward bedtime, so I must finish now. Hoping you are in the best of everything, I remain

Yours sincerely,
Harry.

P.S. Give everybody my best regards.

April 20

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have excerpts from a few more documents from the JDC archives describing the conditions and circumstances of the recent arrivals on the Drottningholm. Historian Corry Guttstadt devotes a chapter in her book Turkey, the Jews, and the Holocaust to “The Exchange of Turkish Jews in Concentration Camps.”

In the post of April 16, the passengers had been transferred from the ship to a tender in the Bosphorus and not allowed to set foot on land.

In her letters from Istanbul, Helene talks of feeling as much like a prisoner in Istanbul as she was in Ravensbrück. In some ways it felt worse to her because she had no way of contacting Vitali and she had a support system of fellow prisoners in the camp. In Istanbul, after a brief dream of freedom, she found herself alone, penniless, and stateless. She was moved from place to place. The Joint memos confirm her conditions. Many people needed help and there was a limited budget. Moving prisoners to cheaper lodging was one way of making the money last longer. But it made Helene impossible to find, either by Vitali’s relatives in Turkey or by letters from her children and nephews. Another challenge for Helene is that the last known address she had for her daughter Eva was when she was in nursing school several years before. By April 1945, Eva was living elsewhere, and was married and had a new last name. Her son Harry was still in the army somewhere in the South Pacific. The best she could do was recall the name of the apartment building where her cousin Tillie Zentner lived.

It is hard to imagine the logistics faced by the Joint and other organizations trying to help the thousands of refugees at the end of WWII. The passengers of the Drottningholm were probably the least of their worries, but the plight of these individuals was difficult indeed.

---

From a letter from Arthur Fishzohn in Istanbul, dated April 17th, 1945:

To: Mr. Harold Trobe
American Joint Distribution Committee, Lisbon

Dear Mr. Trobe:

Re. Drottningholm.

It has been impossible thus far to obtain from the authorities a list of the passengers that arrived on the Drottningholm on April 12th, 1945 in Istanbul. The lists enclosed herewith have been prepared from information supplied by passengers on the Drottningholm. You will note, they indicate the name of the relative to be notified and the address for that relative. …

Passengers are extremely anxious that their relatives be notified at once. …

There is a total of 115 passengers who were transferred from the Drottingholm to Turkish tender, but who on Saturday, April 14, 1945 were taken off the tender and interned in several hotels under Police surveillance, pending the decision of the Turkish authorities concerning nationality status. We are pressing for their recognition as such nationals, or in cases where such nationality may be difficult to prove, for permission to have them domiciled in Turkey. We will ask further also for the right of all of this group to be permitted to work. We have been having excellent cooperation from our top friends here and we are certain that such cooperation will be continued until this matter has been concluded….

It will be important for the War Refugee Board and the Intergovernmental Committee on Refugees to stand by regarding the Drottningholm matter. I will keep you posted, of course, promptly on any change in status.

With kind regards,
Sincerely Yours,
Arthur Fishzohn

---

Contents of telegram dated 20th April 1945:

To:       Charles Passman
American Joint Distribution Committee, Jerusalem

From: Arthur Fishzohn

Through:         American Consulate General, Istanbul

No. 25. The repatriate account balance as of end of this month is twelve hundred Turkish Pounds and sufficient only through July. We will need about forty-five hundred pounds monthly thereafter for Istanbul and Izmir till end of year. Drottningholm cost through April nineteenth six thousand pounds. Approximate hotel costs daily are nine-hundred to thousand pounds. All Drottningholm group without means and few have relatives here. When released they will continue to be heavy burden. Total number of passengers Drottningholm hundred forty eight. Only. About twenty in this group not being presently financed by us. Please make appropriation recommendations to Lisbon and advise me concerning same. Arrange also to have funds sent promptly. Shall I contact you in Tehran after twenty-sixth. 

From a memo from April 20th and 21st, 1945 to Mr. Charles Passman From Arthur Fishzohn:

Mr. Charles Passman
American Joint Distribution Committee, Jerusalem 

Dear Mr. Passman:

Re. Drottningholm.

I met yesterday with the Repatriate Committee and with Mr. Brod concerning costs involved in connection with the Drottningholm refugees. Today I sent you cable No. 25, which makes reference to the matter of costs. I wish to give you now a somewhat fuller picture of the situation.

A total of 148 Jewish persons arrived in Istanbul on the Drottningholm. The authorities accepted as valid, passports of 31, who were permitted to land immediately. Since that time, two more persons were allowed to land on the basis of valid Dutch and British passports. Three persons are ill, and were placed in hospitals as soon as the boat docked here. The remaining 112 persons have been interned since Saturday, April 14th in two small hotels in Moda and in the Touring hotel in Istanbul.

….The estimated costs to date are as follows:

From April 10th to 14th, for food and incidentals, brought aboard the tender, 2000 Turkish Liras. From April 14th through April 19th, the first 5 days in hotels, the sum of 4000 Turkish Pounds averaging 800 T.L. per day. Hotel costs include food and the average cost per person per day is about 6.50 T.L. [We need] a total of 812 T.L. per day which we can expect will continue as long as these people remain in the hotels….

These people will be a considerable financial burden even though the Turkish authorities should permit them to remain in Istanbul, for the reason that hardly any of them have relatives here, who can help them and very few of them have any sort of trade. …[T]here will be a long adjustment period before they will be able to find work of one kind or another.

The repatriate committee, in order to keep expenses down to the minimum… is working on plans to use the Grand Rabbinate building or Bene Berith building for the purpose of housing many of these people if and when their internment in the hotels ends. The Committee isnot altogether agreed that this would be a solution or that it can use these buildings for this purpose and they are investigating other means of handling this problem.

April 18

This drawing appears in the Exhibition "French women in Ravensbrück" presented in Paris from April 18 to 26, 1959, before being installed at the Museum of Ravensbrück, opened in the former prison of the German Nazi concentration camp.  

Friends of Ravensbrück
10, rue Leroux – Paris-16th

“The call before dawn, with the sick wrapped in blankets,” drawing by Jeanne Letourneau, high school teacher at Lycée Joachim du Bellay in Angers.

---

This postcard was among the things my grandmother kept that were not personal documents or letters. When I first was going through her papers, I thought that she kept these newspaper items because they reminded her of her own experiences in Vienna or Ravensbrück. However, as I delved deeper, I continue to discover that Helene knew the author (or in this case, the artist). So this is not just an interesting artifact about Ravensbrück, but a drawing by someone she knew personally.

Jeanne Letourneau was imprisoned at Ravensbrück with fellow teachers from Angers, including Lucienne Simier who became a good friend of Helene’s. We saw a letter Helene wrote to Lucienne on January 22 while she was in Istanbul.

You can see other drawings by Jeanne Letourneau which she made in Ravensbrück at the Musée de L’Armée in Paris.

The Museum’s biography states (courtesy of Google Translate): “Jeanne Léonie Antoinette Letourneau was born in Angers on November 13, 1895. She studied drawing in Paris and then became a drawing teacher at the college for young girls Joachim du Bellay in Angers. She was arrested on March 13, 1943 and imprisoned in Angers before being deported "politically" to the Ravensbrück camp where she arrived on April 27, 1943. She remained there until February 1945 then was moved to the Rechlin camp for a few weeks before returning to Ravensbrück between March and April 1945. She was liberated on April 5, 1945 and arrived in Angers on the following April 18. “I weighed 33 kilogr [72 pounds] and was 80 years old,” she wrote, commenting on her physical condition at the time of her release. On her return, she writes an account of these two years spent at Ravensbrück which she calls "Barbarian Clichés" and which accompanies her drawings. Jeanne Letourneau resumed her teaching activity at Angers Lycée until 1955. She was appointed Knight of the Order of the Legion of Honor in 1952. The Musée de l'Armée holds in its collections several drawings by Jeanne Letourneau which entered the museum by donation from the artist in 1968. ‘The drawing was for me a happy diversion in the camp although a little dangerous, but I did not think about it.’”

Biographies of Jeanne Letourneau and the other teachers who were deported to Ravensbrück can be found in French at the Lycée Henri Bergson website in Angers.

April 16

The following is the text of a memo found in the JDC Archives describing the first experience of the Drottningholm passengers upon their arrival in Turkey. Helene was one of the prisoners traded from Ravensbrück. In recent days we’ve seen newspaper articles about the ship’s departure from Sweden and arrival in Istanbul.

13th April, 1945

DROTTNINGHOLM

The Drottningholm, the Swedish liner, arrived in Istanbul from Goteborg, Sweden, Tuesday, April 10th, 1945.

All passengers on board are being exchanged for German nationals, who are returning to Germany. Among the group who arrived were approximately 145 Jews, who were recently interned in the German concentration camps: Bergen Belsen, Ravensbruck, Westerbork, Theresienstadt and Auschwitz (extermination camp in Poland).

These Jews had lived as Turkish nationals for years in Milan, Vienna, Berlin, Amsterdam, Brussels and other cities in Europe. Their passports were in virtually all cases confiscated by German concentration camp officials. However, these people were fortunate in being exchanged. The entire group is destitute and completely without means.

Arthur Fishzohn, Director of the American Joint Distribution Committee’s activities in Turkey, and J.L. Trobe, another Joint Distribution Committee representative, now in Istanbul, en route to the Balkans, greeted the Turkish Jewish repatriates on board of Drottningholm and assured them that the Joint Distribution Committee would provide to the extend necessary. 

The Turkish authorities accepted as valid the passports of approximately 30 of the Jewish passengers and they were permitted to land immediately. However, the authorities are questioning the validity of their claim to Turkish nationality of approximately 115 of this group.

The Turkish Authorities have transferred the 115 passengers in question to a Turkish tender in the Bosphorus, while completing their investigation on an individual basis of the claims of these people to Turkish nationality. They have already been on this tender for four days. Among these, are 24 children under the age of 14.

Messrs. Fishzohn and Trobe have been using all means to have these Jewish group recognized as Turkish nationals, or in cases where this may not be possible, to have the Turkish Authorities admit such persons to domicile in Turkey as refugees from Nazi persecution.

All these persons tell horrible tales of maltreatment in the concentration camps. Among the group were several women, who had been confined to camp Auschwitz in Poland. These women still bear the numbers of identification which have been seared into their arms. One of these women has her head completely covered with a shawl to hide her head shaven by the Nazis in the concentration camp. Her mother and other two members of her family, who remained behind in Auschwitz, have been exterminated.

Messrs. Fishzohn and Trobe on boarding the tender today, were besieged by all of the passengers enquiring into the truth of the reported death of President Roosevelt. They were saddened by the awful news and are transmitting a telegram of condolence to Mrs. Roosevelt.

---

Note: FDR died on April 12, 1945

Helene was one of the 115 passengers required to remain on the ship because Turkey did not recognize her claim to citizenship.

April 15

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

U.S. Army Service Clubs

Fort Francis E. Warren
Wyoming
April 15, 1943

Hello,

This camp is a quartermaster training post; I don’t like the idea of being a quartermaster. They don’t ask you whether you want to go, they just put you where they want to. Letter soon to follow.

Harry

---

I always thought it was odd that Harry ended up being stationed in the south pacific – why would you send a native German speaker to Asia? When I did an oral interview with Harry, he spoke of how he was a fatalist like his parents and how fortunate he had been throughout his life. One instance of good fortune was that indeed his company was supposed to be sent to Europe. He and a fellow soldier were on a train to get back to base when they were about to get shipped out, but the train was delayed and the company left without them. Harry was then posted to the South Pacific. According to Harry, almost the entire unit that was sent to Europe perished.

When last we heard from Harry, he was in Monterey, CA, beginning his army service. In 10 days he found himself in Wyoming for training. According to the F.E. Warren Air Force Base website, “During World War II, Fort Warren was the training center for up to 20,000 of the Quartermaster Corps. More than 280 wooden buildings were constructed without insulation and interior walls to temporarily house the increased number of troops. In the harsh Wyoming winter, waking up in these barracks often meant shaking snow from one's blanket before heading for the just-as-cold communal showers.” Hopefully Harry was long gone by the time winter set in.

Harry waiting for a Greyhound bus. Date unknown.

April 14

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have another letter from soldier Harry Lowell to sister Eva Lowell in San Francisco.

New Guinea
April 14, 1944

Dear Eva,

Thank you for the letters of March 4th, 21st, 25th, and April 1st. My apologies for not having written you sooner; I shall be prompter in answering your letters from now on. The trouble seems to be that whenever I put writing off for another day it takes a few more days until I get in a correspondence mood again; that’s bad.

Judging from your letters I can see that you are entangled in domestic affairs. Get ready to receive a lecture from your brother; here goes. All the years of education, both academic and medical, have failed to teach you fundamental psychology or any sense of diplomacy applicable to peaceful relations with one’s relatives. Or is it patience you lack? Have you ever tried to see both sides of an argument? Learn to control your tongue and get rid of your stubbornness; then you will have reached successfully the first stage of the art of getting along with your relatives. (Editor’s note: Are you interested in learning the next nine stages of it? Then write for Prof. Lowell’s outstanding books; “Towards Harmonious Dealings With One’s Kin”, “Why, and Why the Hell Not?” and “Cheerful Psychology For Everyday Use.” These three volumes can be obtained either from the author himself or from your neighborhood second-hand bookstore.)

Now that I have given you a paternal sermon, I’ll turn to nicer subjects. (I guess you could imagine your brother, father of a little brood, giving lectures before and after dinner; what a holy terror I’d be!)

As to that Standard Oil deal, my suggestion is still the same; stay away from it. If you have a desire to get away from S.F., try to get some good job in a different location. About four hundred miles distance should be enough to give you plenty of independence without any interference. Of course, should you get a good job offered anywhere far from S.F., you’ll have to approach Tillie diplomatically, etc. Just use your head and follow my advice in the three aforementioned books.

No, I haven’t heard of Julius being in the hospital; I hope it’s nothing serious.

How are you getting along otherwise? What’s the name of the turtle at your house? I would like to send to Ursula’s mother a couple of dozen of those beasts that serenade us every night with their “whaaaat, whaaat, whaaat”; they are the New Guinea frogs. (They need tuning.)

I got a hold of a trigonometry book and I’m having a lot of fun with it. How is Ursula getting along with her French lessons or has her tutor given up teaching?

Well, old girl, that’s about all I have to write about. Special Service finished our company with a little library, consisting of a cabinet and about a hundred books; it’s very nice I think.

Right now we’re in the mosquito hunting season and we take preventive measures to keep the anopheles away from us; we keep a net over our cot, here is a poem about it:

FRUSTRATION

G’wan and buzz, you son of a B---,
I’m under a net and you can’t bite me.
You can rant and rave and tear your hair,
But I’m in here and you’re out there.

You can call your friends to bring you aid,
You can call the spawn of the eggs you laid.
But not one whit will they help you out,
For the cords of this net are strong and stout.

 Your buzzing rasps upon my ears,
But this bar of mine quells all my fears.
Even a blind man’s eyes could see,
Your evil proboscis won’t stick in me.

I settle me down for a night’s repose,
My physique is bare, devoid of clothes.
But something starts to gnaw on my hide.
One of the bastards has snuck inside!

New Guinea                --S/Sgt. R.W. WAR…

 Well, this is absolutely the last page.

Love,
Harry. Prof of Psycholgy,
Physiology, and Philosophy

P.S. Give my best regards to the folks (2266-22 Ave) and to the Travers!

---

It’s wonderful to hear “Professor” Harry give his sister Eva advice, following up on the advice he gave her against taking a job with Standard Oil in the letter posted on March 9. Here, he is the ripe old age of 20 and his sister is almost 23. They had very different personalities. Harry was easy-going and charmed everyone, not letting others know what he was thinking. Eva had strict rules for herself and others, and was incapable of telling a lie or of stretching the truth even a bit. With no news of their parents, relatives in San Francisco took on the parental role, much to Harry and Eva’s displeasure. They needed to quickly find a way to make a living and become independent. That was much easier for Harry as a boy. Eva felt constricted by the rules and expectations for girls and it is clear from this letter that she wanted to get as far away from the expectations and judgments of family members.

Ursula was a friend of Eva’s from nursing school. Although Eva apparently complained to Harry about Ursula’s mother, I only heard my mother say good things about her. For many years she was Eva’s landlady. I remember her as a sweet old lady who sometimes took me to the zoo.

April 13

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have a letter from Helene in frigid Vienna to her children in San Francisco. Although she typed without paragraph breaks on both sides of a half-sheet of paper to save money on postage, I have breaks for ease of reading.

 26th Clipper letter, on 13th April 1940

My golden children!

I was about to write a complaint letter because I thought I’d been forgotten, but then the postman’s ring prevented me from doing that. He didn’t keep me from writing, but he stopped my bad mood and the barometer went from changeable lousy weather to cheerful. It was the birthday letter to Papa (which I answer quickly) which made the April weather on Seidlgasse better. In actuality, the thermometer was -1 degree today and our oven is fed with all sorts of goodies. It is currently eating the ruins of an armchair which I found when I was cleaning out our basement. The latter I had to clean out because it’s going to be commissioned as an air raid shelter.

I was particularly happy about the contents of this letter because you spent the Easter holidays pleasantly, as we wished you would. Eva may continue writing such “shocking” letters; we enjoy all the descriptions of the comforts that our only relatives over there give you. Harry said in his last letter similar self-torturing comments regarding a ham sandwich. A song occurs to me: “Where is my Christian, in Hamburg or Bremen? I look at our cows and I think of Christian.” In another verse of the song, “I hear our donkey braying and I think of Christian right away.” I really have to be happy that you think of us when you are thinking about happy things and not domestic animals.

I’m not writing anything in paragraphs because I am just writing how I think. Please don’t tell my German teacher about that. The clipper post is such that it’s quite expensive and I’m looking to get my full money’s worth out of the postage. So I ask your forgiveness. There are a few lines in here for Sol Goldberg and Robert. By the way, I don’t know the address for either of those people. I also don’t know the address for Aunt Tillie.

I have nothing to say new about us, except that this week I “consolidated” a lot of plates, to use Eva’s technical term. This week I was a little more nervous than otherwise because I didn’t get any mail, but I don’t cry over spilt milk [in German: broken dishes]. It hurt more that we lost our beautiful Copenhagen vase which Papa broke. He promised to replace it but there is really no way. We have lost a beautiful thing from earlier times that always reminded me of “at home.” That’s just too bad!

While I’m writing, spring is rushing by me and winter storms are not thinking about giving way to the blissful moon, as little Harry used to naively believe. By the way, what happened to my “pickled herring”? [perhaps a play on the name Harry?] Did it become an eel? We were always such a respectable family - how did we come up with an eel in our honorable family? After my son has a “brain-storm,” I can think of all sorts of things and go back to something else.

Was it Aunt Hedwig who invited you, my Eva-child to the movies? The noblesse of Aunt Tillie and Bertha who always feed your eternal hunger for stockings made me very happy. Thinking of your stockings, I mainly wear the ones Harry left behind; I think I’m going to have to go to a blacksmith soon. On my birthday and Christmas, I got from Papa some stockings as well. He used the points he had available and I think a friend of his may have helped him out with additional points. I am not wearing them however, I am saving them for my daughter.

We got a call from the gallery. Papa wishes to get all the phone numbers. I believe I asked for Zentners’ telegram address. Olga wrote to me. She was happy to get a letter from Eva, but she was sorry she could not send me the original.

Many, many kisses. I greet you all. Your insatiably letter-hungry Helene-Mutti