August 10

Today we have a postcard from soldier Paul Zerzawy working in the Statistical Bureau to the his family in Brüx, Bohemia.

Belgrad 10 VIII 1916

I just received a postcard which I sent on the 27th to Erich, with the note “missing”. Please notify me immediately with any news, possibly by telegram. Please direct yourselves with a postcard to the information department of the Red Cross in Prague and Brünn, as well as to the Reserve Batallion L14. Evidence probably also Brünn. I will write as well.

Paul

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We saw the only letter I have from Erich Zerzawy that was written while he was a soldier on active duty in the July 14 post – in that letter he mentioned that he was “in the presence of the enemy” and presumably he was captured soon thereafter. In today’s letter, Paul is anxious that his letter from late July was returned because Erich was “missing”.

The rest of Erich’s correspondence in my archive was sent from a POW camp in Eastern Siberia. We saw the first of those letters in the January 8 post.  I have 24 cards written in 1917 and two in 1918.

Paul tried to discover what had happened to his brother. In the January 12 post, we saw an International Red Cross information card from 1919 indicating that Erich escaped from the camp in July 1918. Like so many things in the archive, we see history repeating itself during and after the two wars, including searching for missing loved ones, longing for letters, economic hardship, and reflections on the life of a soldier.

August 9

I have posted earlier documents from the Joint Distribution Committee (the Joint) that I found in the JDC Archives. Today I am including text from some of the memos written in August 1945 regarding the Drottningholm passengers stranded in Istanbul since April. We read about Helene’s experience in the February 2 post where she describes her nomadic life during her first few months in Istanbul. She had no idea what was going on behind the scenes.The letters below help us understand the complexity of the situation. We see that despite the best will in the world to free prisoners and help them reunite with their families, politics, bureaucracies, diplomacy, and economics served to make life for these refugees difficult indeed.

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From an August 8, 1945 from Arthur Fishsohn in Istanbul to Judah Magnes at the Joint in Jerusalem:

Ref. No. 92

Dear Dr. Magnes,

Re: Drottningholm refugees

I was in Ankara on August 2nd and reviewed with Mr. Packer the entire matter of the Drottningholm passengers still detained here. Mr. Packer arranged an appointment for me with Mr. Celal Osmarr Abacıoğlu, Director General of Turkish Consular Affairs (of Ministry of Foreign Affairs). 

Mr. Abacıoğlu insisted that the Turkish Government did not know of the presence on board of Drottningholm of any of the Jewish passengers until the ship was about to arrive at Port Said (he stated that the boat had been reserved only for Turkish diplomats and students). The Turkish Foreign Office, he said, then promptly cabled London stating this group was unknown to the Foreign Office; had no right to be on the ship and asked London to permit all of the group to be landed at Port Said and from there to be permitted to go to Palestine. However, by the time London was advised, the boat had already left Port Said and was Istanbul bound. At the request of Mr. Packer and for “humanitarian” reasons, the group was permitted to land here. Mr. Abacıoğlu took the further position that much latitude has been shown by the Foreign Office in accepting as nationals a number of persons who had really forfeited their claim to Turkish citizenship. With respect however to the group that is still interned, Mr. Abacıoğlu stated that not only had they lost their Turkish nationality status long before their arrival here but that they have no documents, no relatives, no resources and little, if any, connection with anything Turkish. He felt, under all the circumstances, that his Government had been very fair and that the United States or any other Government would not have acted differently.

Before visiting Mr. Abacıoğlu I had thought to point out that the Swiss representative action on behalf of the Turkish as well as the German Government had permitted the Jewish passengers to board the Drottningholm; that accordingly the Turkish Government was bound by the act of its agent and for that reason should, at least, free from internment the entire group and permit them to stay here as refugees until arrangements could be made for their emigration to Palestine or other countries. Mr. Packer (with whom I discussed this prior to my appointment with Mr. Abacıoğlu) however, felt that it would serve no useful purpose to bring up this point. Accordingly in my discussion with Mr. Abacıoğlu I asked that the interned group be freed on a bond or guarantee to the effect that any member of the group would be produced whenever the authorities wanted him. Mr. Abacıoğlu at first stated this could not be done, later asked what was done in such matters in the U.S. When I explained they would be freed either on their own recognizance or on bond, he inquired how much “time” I wanted. I asked him a minimum of 3 months and he replied that he would take the matter up “unofficially” with higher officials but thought that it would make his presentation of the case more difficult to ask for “such a long period”. …

I related to Mr. Packer my discussion with Mr. Abacıoğlu who agreed that it was difficult enough to do anything even in three months. Of course, Mr. Packer will do what he can to press the matter of release of the group at least on bond.

In my letter No. 87 I mentioned that 21 of the group of 46 persons who had been released on June 21st, were ordered reinterned but that Mr. Brod’s personal guarantee was accepted by the police here, so that these people still remained free, although of course their nationality status is now in doubt. I had thought to discuss this matter with Mr. Abacıoğlu on two counts; first, to inquire into the reason for the reinternment; second, to ask that the form of guarantee given by Mr. Brod for the 21 should be accepted for all of the remaining internees. However, it was brought to my attention before I met with Mr. Abacıoğlu (through a very responsible source) that it might be best not to refer to this matter at all, at this time, as the Foreign Office might be unaware that a guarantee for the 21 had been accepted by the police and accordingly I might be stirring up some unnecessary trouble.

Certificates have been obtained and arrangements are being made for 17 additional persons to leave for Palestine within the next ten days to two weeks. …This will reduce the number of people in hotels to 49.

As I indicated in a previous letter (Ref. No. 87) we expect to have available the children’s camp in Burgas for use by about 40 refugees. We had hoped this would be by the 20th of August. It appears now, however, that we cannot get the camp until the middle of September. Expenses will be sharply reduced. However, this will not solve the ultimate problem of repatriation of these people. All of them are in fact “stateless”. It may be possible in a few individual cases to convince the Consulates of the countries where they were previously residing to grant them visas (so far we have had no luck in this respect). The only solution I can see is obtaining Palestinian certificates for some more of these people and getting the assistance of our own State Department and War Refugee Board (I understand the W.R.B. is going out of existence at the end of this month), in interceding on behalf of the remaining refugees with the Governments of the countries where they should like to return.

Sincerely yours,
Arthur Fishsohn 

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From an August 16, 1945 letter from Arthur Fishsohn in Istanbul to Donald Hurwitz at the American Joint Distribution Committee in New York:

Ref. No. 46                             August 16, 1945

Dear Don,

Your letter dated June 6th reached me only today. It had been misdirected by the postal authorities to Tehran, but finally found its way back to Istanbul. …

The volume of work here has increased greatly in the past few months, specifically since “V E Day”. A good deal of this work has had to do with detailed arrangement concerning shipments of supplies into the Balkans. You know what a headache it is to arrange for shipment of human cargo – you had the experience when you were in Lisbon, but you will probably find it hard to believe that so many involvements can develop when one tries to arrange for shipment of supplies to the Balkans….

The Drottningholm matter has become almost a cause célèbre, but even here the situation is becoming brighter. Out of an initial 116 people interned in hotels, we now have 50. They are not Turkish nationals and so cannot be repatriated here. We are doing everything possible to get the consuls of the various countries where they resided before the war, to grant them visas even tho’ they are not nationals of such countries. 

Heretofore, the Consuls were adamant in their refusals to consider these cases. Now however, it looks like they are beginning to give way. It will still take a lot of urging and pressure but we hope that in the not too distant future we will be able to get these people back to their “old” countries….

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From an August 18, 1945 letter from Arthur Fishsohn in Istanbul to Judah Magnes at the Joint in Jerusalem:

Dear Dr. Magnes,

Re: Drottningholm

There are now 50 internees left. Since my last letter on this matter (Ref. 92), the possibilities of getting visas for the internees for the countries where they had previously resided and to which they wish to return, appears somewhat brighter. There are 16 persons who wish to return to Belgium and the Belgian Consul here will now accept their applications for visas and has indicated he will do everything possible to obtain their issuance. The Dutch Consul (there are 14 in this category who wish to go back to Holland) will consider the question of granting visas and hopes to advise us shortly on this matter. The Italian group (there are 10 people) also appear to have fairly good chances for visas to return to Italy. As a matter of fact, three or four persons have already received visas in the past several days and also the required permission of the Allied Central Commission in Italy to return to that country. We have 3 persons in the French group and the French Consulate is presently considering their applications.

This change of thinking on the part of various consulates has taken place very recently as up to now they have refused consistently to consider visa requests for persons other than their own nationals.

Such people as obtain visas will of course be looking for transportation costs because none of them have any resources. Should the matter of such costs be left to the HICEM here? If not, I should like to receive authorization to pay these costs. I will have to use American Dollars so that it will be necessary to obtain additional funds from New York for this purpose or New York might permit me to use some money from the $50,000 recently sent me for freight transportation charges…

I have heard nothing yet from Ankara with regard to the matter of the guarantee for the interned group, but have written Mr. Packer about it and hope that he may soon have some favorable news…..

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From an August 27, 1945 letter from Arthur Fishsohn in Istanbul to Simon Brod in Istanbul:

Dear Mr. Brod,

On Saturday Mr. Mazon spoke with my Secretary on the telephone and indicated that the Burgas House will be available to us for the “DROTTININGHOLM” Refugees beginning September 10th, 1945.

It is necessary however to make arrangements to sign a lease or contract for the premises before we take possession. I would appreciate it if you would have Mr. Mazon confirm this conversation and obtain any other details that may be necessary, in order that we do not have any further hitch in connection with this matter. It is possible also that we may have to visit Burgas for the purpose of being in a better position to make plans for the number to be admitted etc. If so let me know and we will arrange a fixed time to make this visit….

August 8

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Today we have an aerogramme letter postmarked 11 August 1964.from Robert Zerzawy in London to his aunt Helene in San Francisco. Robert’s birthday was July 27 and he would have been 65 years old.

 Phrases written in English are in italics.

Dear Helen,

It is hard to describe what joy and relief your birthday telegram brought. Almost a year had passed by without my hearing anything from you. I was seriously worried but I didn’t have the courage to ask what was going on. The Cablegram had been sent from Berkeley from which I can figure out that either you are or were with Harry and his family. To be on the safe side, it had been sent on July 26th so it would have reached me punctually on my birthday and really would have topped off my birthday if we hadn’t been having a postal strike here right then. It also was sent to my former address and so I did get it but somewhat late. Despite that, I thank you sincerely for thinking of me and I accept the big Kiss in lieu of unwritten letters in the hope that this bad habit will finally be broken by one of you and that I will find out about how you and your children and their children are doing. I only hope that you are all doing well and that the children are thriving and that you my dear Helen are staying young with them with your wonderful vitality.

Apparently you did not get my letter in November that I sent for your birthday or you didn’t make a note that my address had changed. I told you at that point that we had managed to get ourselves a small house, somewhat outside the city limits, but on the way to Richmond. It is located in London in a fairly wealthy area, 200 yards from the Thames, with sport grounds in front and enough garden in the back to give us the privacy we desire. I probably also reported that my company was changed into an office of the paint factory Bayer over which I preside. Not too much longer, in the next year I would like to retire if the firm grants me a pension, remains to be seen because I don’t have an entitlement to it. Anne is still working with me. We are also lucky in that we got with the house the opportunity to keep the cleaning lady who (pssst!) is very good and very willing to do things. After those lean years which we had to put up with for a quite some time, we are now doing pretty well. We ought to be happy with our life then. Unfortunately, it is human nature that one forgets easily and then creates problems that shouldn’t even really matter. But that’s probably the case everywhere.

Now I have told you in sort of an outline form about us. I would be glad to write in more detail when I know more about how you are doing. But in the meantime, I wish you, dear Helen, good health and much joy in the family. Greet Eva and Paul, Harry and his wife and the offsprings on both sides. Anne also enthusiastically joins me in these wishes.

I give you a hug to represent our old connection

Your Powidl

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Although Robert was not able to join his brother Paul in San Francisco, it appears he was able to make a more comfortable life for himself in England than his brother did in the U.S. Of course, he lived longer and had more time to establish himself.

As we saw in letters posted earlier this year, Helene and Robert had gotten out of the habit of letter writing by the 1960s. It appears they don’t manage to write except for birthdays, and sometimes only sending a telegram.

I don’t know anything about Robert’s wife Anne. I found a marriage registry list on Ancestry that shows that Robert married a woman whose last name was Lock in the last quarter of 1949. This photo was in an envelope of Paul Zerzawy’s family photos and may be Robert’s wife:

In this and another letter, Robert signs his nickname – Powidl – a plum jam made in Bohemia. In a few of her stories about her childhood, she fondly remembers eating Buchteln filled with Powidl. I assume Robert liked the jam as much as his beloved aunt. I decided to find a recipe and make a batch in honor of today’s post and to have a taste of my grandmother’s childhood.

August 7

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New Guinea
August 2, 1944

Dear Bertha and George,

I was happy to hear from you again and I found your letter quite encouraging, you are a true booster of my morale. I am in rather good spirits as yet – but another two and a half years of this and I’ll be a sad looking individual. 

“Name me no names for my disease
With uninforming breath;
I tell you I am none of these,
But homesick unto death.”
W.B.

I had better get out of this mood quickly before I start getting too sentimental, eh? After all I am very lucky compared to those poor G.I.’s who have been here for nearly three years; it’s only been seven months since I arrived on this island (…….long, long ago, long, long ago….) I think the lack of sufficient sunshine is what makes me so gloomy; you have heard of rain in the tropics, have you not? That’s the rain that never stops and that never gives the sun a chance to peek through its wet curtain of gray. (Rather poetic, yes?) When there is sunshine I always feel happy and joyful like a lark and don’t know worry or gloom. This dreary, drizzling, dropical (pardon – poetic license) climate makes a man think; and when a soldier, who is thousands of miles away from home and civilization, starts to think and think – you can imagine the result. There is one thing that a man must learn here to keep him from going batty, namely not to do too much thinking, too often, too long, and too seriously. The best thing to do is to pursue some hobby to keep one’s mind away from things. That reminds me, I finally decided to take advantage of your offer to send me anything I needed. Will you kindly send me about ten packages of assorted seeds, both flower and vegetable. I want to do a bit of experimenting here. I know, there are a lot of plants which won’t grow here, but I want to try anyway; the soil is extremely rich and fresh vegetables will be much tastier than the “C” rations we are getting. I realize that what I ask sounds quite crazy to you, but I am serious about this. I am looking forward to getting that package from you. As for reading material, I have sufficient; a friend of mine in So. California presented me with a subscription to the National Geographic Magazine, which I enjoy very much. The Special Service branch of the Army furnishes us with good books and magazines that keep our spare moments occupied. Eva has been sending me the Sunday editions of the Chronicle; you see, there is no lack of reading material.

Have you been having luck with your garden this year? I heard the weather hasn’t been so good in S.F.

I guess you have been to Eva’s new domicile already. How is she getting along? Please tell her that I am still waiting for her picture – a big one. I have been asking her for the last six months, unsuccessfully however. That’s a fine way to treat one’s own brother, isn’t it?

Well, it is getting rather late, and as there is nothing more to write about I’ll sign off.

I hope both of you are well and happy when this reaches you.

Yours very fondly,
Harry

P.S. Too bad you cannot send me a cow.
P.P.S. Give my regards to all.

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For me, today’s letter encapsulates so much of what Harry learned from his parents and from his own experiences thus far in his young life – finding humor in any situation and wanting to share it with others; a sunny expectation that fate will be kind; a confidence in his own capabilities that he will be able to accomplish or create anything with the right attitude and few resources – a few seeds are enough; a love of language, music, and literature. All of these things stood him in good stead throughout his life. He cared little for money and expensive things, and was happiest entertaining himself and his family with music, laughter, and fun.

The poem is by Witter Bynner, who began writing poetry in the early 20th Century. The song snippet is from a 19th Century song called “Long, long ago.” I remember singing this song as a child – perhaps in elementary school? Both the poem and the song both deal with nostalgia and homesickness.

August 6

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Today we have a Red Cross postcard from POW Erich Zerzawy addressed to the “Zerzawy Siblings” in Brüx, Bohemia (with no street address!).

Beresowka 5/VIII.17

My dear ones!

Recently I received some cards from all of you. From Robert, Käthl, Paul and from Aunt Lene. The most recent are from May. I’d really like to write to Paul but it’s quicker to write to you and ask you to tell him about it, as usual. That you are all hoping for peace soon, I certainly believe — who isn’t? There are two groups here — consistent optimists and incorrigible pessimists. It’s not a surprise when you realize that these people have spent the last 3 years here in Beresowka. As far as I know now, the 50 rubles are certainly late in arriving. As far as the sending, Robert’s (#51205) is still in Petersburg. Kisses,

Erich

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It appears that both POWs and soldiers relied on money and care packages from home. We saw in the August 4 post that in 1916, Erich’s brother Paul was asking for money from home to help support him. Although Erich was able to write to civilians, POWs were not able to write to people serving in the military.

We see again how central Helene is to the life of the Zerzawys - both nephews often talk about hearing from Helene (Aunt Lene).

August 5

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A letter from Helene to her children, musing on events from long ago.

 Vienna, 5 August 1941 

My dear children! Since I lack your letters, I am not sure if you have gotten all of ours, but I hope that even if you haven’t, you know something about the state of things. One of our acquaintances, hoping they wouldn’t worry about anything, wrote to his parents that everything will be taken care of in Washington. We shall see! [in Italian] The girls [in English] just called me. They have to move on the 11th of this month but they haven’t found another apartment (or rather, closet) yet. Olga wrote to her brother that she cannot send any more packages because she’s hurting for money too and is also not allowed to send things any longer.

We are doing pretty well, just that we really miss your letters. Yesterday we went for a walk to Krieau and from there we went to the Winterhafen [wharf] and then we went to Lusthaus [in Prater park]. I had some strange memories when we approached the Stadlau train station. It was 1914. Paul wrote to me back then that he would be there about 8 o’clock with his company, but he would not be allowed to leave the train station. I got the letter in the afternoon and I was of course there early. I waited a second hour and believed I would have to take my little bagged dinner back home with me when from a military train which had just arrived, a tall bearded soldier who smelled of sweat appeared and he came over to the water pipe where I had wisely posted myself. I was about to ask him if this was the train from Leitmeritz when I realized it was Paul. I remained on the train platform until the train left. When I didn’t see anything more of him or the train, I started to make my way home. It was pitch black and I had no idea which direction I should go. I do have a good sense of direction and I took my chances until I found a street with streetcar tracks, and that let me know that I was on the right path. I heard steps behind me and when I carefully turned around, I saw the contours of a man. I thought it would be better to have him in front of me or next to me rather than behind me, so when he got a little closer, I spoke to him and I asked him the best way to get to Praterstern. I lived in Salzgries at that time. He seemed trustworthy and he was surprised that I was alone and in this area. I explained the reason and he said I could walk along with him for a while. He was going to “Magenschein”, an obscure inn, which I only knew from a couplet. It would be child’s play to get farther after that, but my heart was still pounding. At 1:30am I arrived home. After that, I was not in the area of Stadlau anymore. I did pass by “Magenschein” a few times and when I was at the Gänserhäufel [means goosebumps], or by the old Danube, I could never go there without remembering my adventurous night and taking my hat off to myself for my bravery. I don’t think I could have done it a second time.

The second memory I have is of an excursion made by bicycle by Harry and Paul. I remembered that when I saw the ferry that the two of them had taken when they were coming from Lobau [Vienna flood plain area]. I tried to find the tree where Harry had put to the test who would win: his skull or the tree. I didn’t find it, the tree I mean. Probably the tree didn’t survive the concussion it got from that. It’s a good thing I wasn’t with them that time, but I remembered that story. Do you remember it? When a person’s main activity is directing their thoughts to wandering into the past and the future in order to escape the present, episodes that one would think were long forgotten come into memory.

I hope that we will be able to get good news from you soon and that our papers are already on a desk in Washington waiting to be sent off.

Everl should write to me about what she knows about Harry since I don’t hear anything from him, just like last year. Also, I’d like to hear about Paul and all the others. Do you ever hear anything from Robert?

I kiss you and I ask you to keep my love,
Helen

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In today’s letter, Helene describes a similar walk down memory lane to the one she talked about in the June 4 post.

Since I did not have Paul’s World War I letters translated from the old German script until recently, this letter was the first inkling I had of how close Helene was to her nephew throughout their lives. In 1914, Helene would have been 27 years old and Paul would have been 19. This letter also confirmed for me that Helene was in Vienna as early as 1914. How wonderful that she would drop everything and make her way through the dark streets of Vienna just to be able to see her nephew for a few minutes at the train station as his unit made a brief stop.

Her second memory also lets us know that Paul spent a lot of time with the family. Although he was almost 20 years older than his young cousin Harry, he happily joined him on a bicycle ride – probably in the early 1930s.

In many letters we’ve seen, Helene recalls happy memories from the past, rather than dwelling on the unpleasant present. In today’s letter she addresses that tendency explicitly. 

August 4

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In yesterday’s post, Paul promised to tell more about his life in his next letter addressed to the “Family” Zerzawy. Today we see that letter.

Belgrade 4./VIII.1916

My dear ones!

My apartment is in the so-called detachment of the crew, which used to be old military housing. To that place I also go to have my meals. In my room there are another 11 people. Mostly Germans from the region of Berman and also 6 Neuner [probably soldiers from Company #9] The room would be beautiful without the bugs. The food is so-so, but starting on the 11th, I will eat the same meals as the sergeants, just as all who have finished their first year do. This food is supposed to be very good. I have quite a beautiful walk to my office. Our department (the Census) is housed in an older building. There are about 60 military instructors working who have been in different schools throughout Serbia, schools which have been established by us. Also, there are an additional 40 teachers for four weeks. As soon as the census and counting of animals for the Austrian part of Serbia which we are just now executing is done, our department will be dissolved. However, a few very competent people will not be sent back, but will be assigned to the proper statistical department. I would be glad to come back to Leitmeritz [Litoměřice in Czech], because in the long term I would not like to be here because it is so far from home.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t be bad here. For example, what is interesting is the surroundings: the castle, the Danube, Semin [now Zemun]. You can see something new every day. Today, the arrival of a new officer, tomorrow the solemn journey on the Danube of the upscale “Monitor Temes.” One day, a German regiment passes through, then follow 8-10 Turks with horses, cannons, and generals which will depart to Galicia. Then the town itself, which is half city, half village, with its grenade destruction visible everywhere, the population which also is mixed together from village and town folk, the traditional clothes, traditional customs, all different kinds of military uniforms. In short, there is enough to see. These are the bad parts: there is a lot of boring work to do (7:30-12:30, 3-7:30), bugs, flies, heat, and inflation. Much more expensive than at home. Only fruit is affordable. But you cannot afford coffee, bakery items, sausages, cheese, butter, eggs, meat. But still I am hoping in spite of everything to save money on my food and for the time being to live on 20-25k. Until now I haven’t had the right company, I miss music and reading material. Unfortunately, a package takes at least 3 weeks. Just in case I don’t write by the 17th that I have received money, please send me 60k, because the money can last for 8 days. If I have no money, I’ll be in a bad situation. Write to me often and a lot. Also, from Grandmother and Käthl, I have barely gotten a line since November 1915.

Paul

Papa, Erich, Helene have been writing regularly. 

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This letter from Paul has many similarities the letters from his cousin Harry almost 20 years later. Do all letters from soldiers sound like this? Or was it a family similarity? Both Paul and Harry were 20-year old soldiers who had been forced to grow up quickly – Paul, because his mother and step-mother had both died before he was 15 and was the eldest of 5 siblings; and Harry, who by the time he was 15 was fleeing with his sister across the world and away from his parents. They each complain of uninteresting work, bad food, heat, and bugs. They spend very little money, trying save every penny. They each long for music and literature.

August 3

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For the next few days we will be spending time with the Zerzawy family during World War I. In this letter from soldier Paul Zerzawy to his brother Robert, we have a different view of the family dynamics than we’ve seen before.

 Belgrade, 3 August 1916

Dear Robert!

Today I received a letter from Käthl where she complains that you hit her because of something very unimportant. From where I am of course I cannot judge if it is all as she claims. Whatever the situation might be, you should enforce your authority in other ways than by boxing her ears.

This letter as you can understand has put me in a very bad mood. You can imagine that this does not really make my stay so far away from home any easier. This reproach naturally is not directed towards Käthl, but towards you, and I hope this is the last time.

I have given Käthl very strict instructions to obey you, but not to put up with being hit, but instead to write to me immediately. And be assured that I am able to help without bothering Papa, even when I am in Belgrade and I am in Brüx. In the most extreme case, it would be entirely possible for me to appear personally.

I do not think it is valid that you object that I have no right to condemn you, because I also hit you guys once in a while. I regret it today and I would never do it again. By the way, also read my letter to Käthl. She also complains that you punished her for leaving books lying around, although you were messy yourself at the same time. Consequently, I wrote to her that in this case, you are right to try to correct her untidiness (except when it comes to hitting), and that it is none of her business what you do with your books.  

Because if every head of the family could only reproach those things which he himself hadn’t done, it would be sad.

So please understand when I forbid you to punish with slaps in the face. Other than that, you have the right to tell Käthl what to do. I have great confidence that you will find the correct way to do so. At the same time, I hope that you conduct yourself with enough honor that you will respect my letters and that you will not look at any of Käthl’s letters without her permission. I am writing this because I have already had to teach you about the concept of confidentiality of letters.  

Don’t consider this situation too tragic, but also don’t take it too lightly. The relationship that we two have with each other will not be affected by this “official” matter, so to speak.

Everything else will follow in a letter addressed to the “Family” Zerzawy.

Your Paul

Please be more kind to Käthl and please promise each other that you will trust each other. It is my wish that Käthl also read this letter and that you read hers, so that you both will know what I am writing to each of you.

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In August 1916, Paul was just 20 years old. His father was away at war, probably called up before Paul was. Paul had felt he needed to be the “man of the house.” Now that he a soldier, his 17-year old brother Robert must take on that role. Robert is young and not prepared to have such responsibility. Paul finds he must try to fix the problems at home from afar.

Robert was not even 3 years old when his mother Ida (Helene’s eldest sister) died. He was the youngest of the siblings born to Ida – both of his brothers Paul and Erich were soldiers in World War I, and only their sister Klara remained at home with him. After their mother died, their father Julius married Ida’s (and Helene’s) sister Mathilda, who died when Robert was 10. Mathilda and Julius had one daughter, Käthe/Käthl, who would have been 12 at the time this letter was written.

This letter demonstrates clearly the effect that war has on the people left at home, even if they are far from the fray. Children aren’t allowed much of a childhood. Fathers are away from home. In the case of the Zerzawy children, there is no mother left to take care of them. Their grandmother Rosa Löwy has taken care of the household since her daughters died, but it must have taken quite a toll on her. She was no longer young, and she had had to bury her children, the mothers of her grandchildren. The prospect of being a soldier was doubtless looming over Robert’s thoughts of his future. My heart goes out to the entire family.

August 2

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Today’s letter from Helene bears the same Clipper and censorship numbers as the one we saw on July 29, confirming her complaint about her “untrue Vitali.”

Vienna, 2 August 1940

My dear children! The untrue Vitali did not mail my letter from the 30th, which annoys me because letters which one does not write or send cannot arrive. But there are so many of them on the way that a disruption in our news cannot be assumed. The situation that I have taken a half sheet you can figure out that I don’t have anything new to say or have very little to report to you. All of my thoughts are concentrated only on the one idea that there must be some letters because of the intensity that something must have gotten through. Eva’s last letter is still the one from July 3rd, from our nobleman from June 10. To be condemned to such passivity is a very unpleasant thing and harder to learn than any other subject you might study. So I’m doing some remedial work on what I didn’t have time to do over the past few years and I am reading a great deal. My intellectual pursuits are with Leonardo, Michelangelo, Machiavelli, and their contemporaries. As you see I am living in the deepest Middle Ages. Papa is doing the same thing, but the difference for him is that he has done this for years and I’m more like someone just starting school. I really had to figure out how to hold a book. It’s a lot harder to read when you hold the book upside down in your hand. The weather of the last week was so unfriendly that I preferred to stay home and can vegetables for the winter. Vitali was very industrious in helping me because you can’t just read all the time. So with these two completely different activities - one for the mind and one not - I am perhaps more inclined toward the last. At least you have a way to leave your thoughts free and the thoughts come right to you. The day before yesterday I promised my mother in a dream that I would not leave her behind and that I would stay here. In the morning I regretted my premature promise. Jo’s visits have become less regular. They are almost more like irregular rather than regular. She did come rather irregularly but several times a day. Now she shows up every 2-3 days. But we do see each other every day because she walks by to go shopping and I am on the balcony waiting for the mailman. (This is how I spend my time these days.) She has probably seen enough of my face from this distance. The paper is about to run out, so kisses

Mutti

---

Helene feels that her life is on hold. Her only desire is to join her children in San Francisco, but the way is not clear. In her dreams, she struggles with the idea of leaving her past behind. Daily life is difficult and becomes more isolated each day. Her only joy is receiving mail, but it rarely arrives. I imagine her standing on one of the balconies below, awaiting the postman — this is the building they lived in in Vienna. (photo courtesy of Corry Guttstadt).

The building on Seidlgasse where Helene, Vitali, Eva, and Harry lived.

Helene’s comments remind me of how I’ve felt during the last 18 months of near isolation due to the restrictions of the pandemic. Although I had the best of intentions to improve my mind and to be productive, in the first few months especially, I found it difficult to concentrate. I didn’t can vegetables, but I did discover the joys of sourdough!

August 1

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This letter from 1941 is labeled #118 – meaning that Helene had sent at least 118 letters to her family in San Francisco since she began numbering them in December of 1939. I have about 100 letters from that period – as Helene suspected, not all of her letters made it to their destination. The letter is damaged so the last big paragraph might not be translated correctly.

 Vienna, 1 August 1941

My dear children! 2 years ago today we were running around with pleasant stomach aches. We imagined we were going to see you on the 4th at 8 in the evening. I can still see myself walking the whole train to get a glance of my children but this didn’t happen. Eva was already standing on the train platform talking to Papa. Harry decided it was a good idea to stay in the background a little bit and let Eva prepare us for what he looked like. The stomach ache and the shivering knees are still with me today, just that the hope of such a train station scene is now with the roles reversed and it seems very far away. We are condemned to sit around and do nothing about our issues here and our hope is that our luck is dependent on yours and on your cleverness in dealing with these matters. It is impossible not to believe that fate has a hand in the game. It is very distressing that the door was slammed in front of us, but on the other hand, when believes in fate, it’s possible to endure it. “We will get away on time” says Papa, as he always does. He’s in such a good mood and he is so confident that he can hardly understand my impatience. This time I even insist that he must be right about this after all. There’s not much left of our tiny circle of acquaintances here and there is nothing nice to report so I will just confine myself to writing about generalities.

“C’mon let’s get to it,” speaking in Harry’s jargon. It is August now. The heat is the only thing that has remained the same and the airy clothing (usually none at all) of the neighbors across the way, assures us that they find it so hot as we do. Yesterday following Papa’s orders, I took 2 aspirin and I was surprised that these candies had such a prompt effect which for me is usually not the effect of being all sweaty. My nightgown was all wet, the pillows felt warm and damp, I lay in a murky puddle. Was I in a jungle? I wasn’t at all surprised when a cobra laughed at me and stuck out its tongue. This feverish bath atmosphere got on my nerves. I threw the pillows, sheets, and my nightgown off of my bed. There’s the solution to this problem. In my hands, I felt a leaking heating pad [Thermophore - brand name for a moist heating pad]. It had leaked out and it seemed like it was dried out. I have never seen Papa so quick and nimble. In no time, he brought fresh bed clothes and he turned the mattresses over, which on the other side looked like they had been under a chronic bed wetter. He rubbed me down and said “My word, you’re like a big chamois! Couldn’t you have called me a little earlier?” I was so proud of the unusual effect that the aspirin had had on me. Although I had been dried off, my skin looked like the hands of a washerwoman after a big wash day. My mattresses are standing up against the window and are being exposed mercilessly to the rising August sun and I hope that they will have the strength to get rid of the water they have soaked up. Well...

I was just interrupted by Jo. She had had some sort of argument 14 days ago and she vented about her bad mood. She came to make it an issue with me because I had not bothered about her while she was sooo sick. Of course, she was so sick that I am happy right now, but you know my mentality. I believe everything, so I am deceived by the stupidest people. Why shouldn’t I give my loved ones a little joy?

To close off the letter, I will make my stereotypical communication that I hope to get mail from you and that I love you unendingly.

I am greeting all of our dear ones and I still long to see you.

Helen

P.S. Please when you get a chance can you let me know which of my letters by number did not arrive? Of course, I mean those from the last months.

---

Helene begins her letter recalling her joyful reunion with her children two years earlier when they returned to Vienna after a few months in Istanbul to obtain their passports. As we saw in the June 6 post, in that short time, Harry had changed a lot – growing much leaner and taller, becoming almost unrecognizable. In recalling this earlier reunion, Helene is dreaming of a future one. The roles are now reversed and she is relying on her children to help them in their efforts to leave Vienna and join them in San Francisco.

In many of her letters, Helene looks to fate to pave the way. In the February 15 post, we saw a story Helene wrote about Vitali entitled “On being fatalistic.” When writing the Febraury 18 post, I realized that her description of fate comes from Goethe’s Faust. Sadly, in so many ways, fate was unkind to Helene and Vitali.

Throughout their lives, both Eva and Harry would describe themselves as fatalists – one of the many lessons they learned from their parents. I now realize that each time they would call themselves fatalists, they were evoking the memory of their parents. At the end of Harry’s life, we worked together to write his obituary. Harry spoke at length about how lucky he had been in his life – being an optimist, he dwelt on the aspects of fate that had been kind to him.

July 31

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Today we have an aerogram letter from Robert Zerzawy in London to Helen Cohen and her family (including one-year old me) in San Francisco and Berkeley. For those too young to remember, an aerogram was the cheapest way to send letters internationally in the mid- to- late 20th century. The paper included its own stamp, was very light and did not require an envelope – you folded it up in a specific way and it became its own package.

Robert’s brother Paul died in 1948. After his brother died, Robert was the last survivor of his siblings. The Paul in this letter refers to Eva’s husband. Robert was born on July 27, 1899 and would have been 61 years old. Harry’s son Jonathan was 10 months old.

English in italics.

35 Matlock Court,
Kensington Park Rd.,
London, W.11.

 28.7.1960

Dear Helene, Eva, Harry, Paul and Helen Rose,

When I got your telegram with the good wishes, it was like a stone fell from my heart in a dimension that you must have heard it fall in Berkeley.

For months I had the depressing feeling that something wasn’t right. I wanted to write or send a telegraph, but that really would have been too drastic and I was also about to make a phone call. But I didn’t have any phone numbers. (It wouldn’t be a bad idea to let me know them) and to book a conversation just for the address would be very inconvenient. I was also afraid that I would just stammer on the phone and not say what I wanted to. I guess I am lazy and opportunistic and I put it off and I thought, oh you’ll hear when it’s your birthday. But I didn’t get anything yesterday and my feelings were increasingly sneaking into sadness. Today I wanted to send a telegram, and then to my great joy and relief, your telegram arrived. Thank you so much. You now understand what a burden has fallen from my soul.

Of course, I am a scoundrel: why didn’t I send something to congratulate Helen Rose on her first birthday, which is the only one I know of all your birthdays except for the one of the big Helen. Don’t you want to make that right? What are you all doing? The first two named as junior and senior come first, and Eva the leader will write to me of course (which I do give her a lot of credit for). And Harry? —well the title which I gave to myself at the beginning of this paragraph [scoundrel] I guess he can set that behind the various initials of his degrees —he has earned it too. But then it comes to me that there may be mitigating circumstances. I was probably also mistaken when before I said that Helen Rose was the youngest child of the family. The telegram speaks of grandchildren! Harry’s issue and a boy or a girl? His wife he’s withheld information about too so he is not quite the white sheep he makes himself out to be.

It is not necessary to say how much I am looking forward to the letter and photos you mentioned. I will not write again until then. I hope you are all well, which I can also say for Anne and myself. Unfortunately, we are too incapable at making any money; otherwise, I would threaten that we will show up in San Francisco someday. But probably we will have to wait for a reunion until the children are old enough and you make a jet over the weekend to London.

I don’t dare to reread the stupor I have now put on paper. I am afraid I would not send it if I did. So, I am sending this outpouring with confidence that it at least shows my great joy that you have given me a sign of life. And in case that letter hasn’t been sent yet, I am giving you the necessary push.

With my nephewish and cousinly love and affectionate greetings in which Anne wishes to join,

Robert

---

I am sorry that my family didn’t have the benefit of the internet and cheap telephones and the ability to be in instant communication with loved ones no matter where they were. I am particularly sad for Robert, the only one of his family who was not able to come to the U.S. Letters obviously brought him great joy, but it appears that they were few and far between, unlike the habit of letter writing of decades earlier. As we’ve seen in earlier posts – see yesterday’s post – Eva took on the mantle from her mother of family communicator. Unlike Robert’s brother Paul, I don’t think Eva and Harry knew their older cousin very well. He did not live in Vienna near them, so they probably saw him only seldom in Vienna and perhaps once in California after the war.

July 30

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Today we have a letter from 20-year old soldier Harry Lowell to his sister Eva in San Francisco.

 New Guinea
July 30, 1944

Dear Eva,

This being the last of the month I think it a good idea t get rid of all my delinquent correspondence and start the next month with a clear conscience (Speaking of conscience, I guess there is no need to tell you that seven of your V-notes are in front of me – all of them unanswered, for shame!) O well, civilians don’t need letters to maintain their morale as much as we men in New Guinea do; so – please don’t follow my example! Keep on writing….till your pen runs out of ink! (Then, refill your pen and continue writing!)

Having dedicated one whole page to apologies for my epistolary shortcomings, I shall proceed with my letter.

First of all, I want to thank you for your constancy in dispatching your cheerful V-letters. If I should ever be awarded the Congressional Medal. I’ll let you wear it forever, in view of your morale boosting. Amen.

Yes, you may use my tennis racket, as I was going to buy me a new one anyhow – but please keep your fingers off my badminton racket, please! (And don’t use my foil for weenie roasts, either!) Who came out victorious in the Julia vs. Eva match?

Congratulations on your new raise! What in the world are you doing with all that money? How about advising your bank to let me be the co-withdrawer of your account?

I received a letter from an acquaintance from San Bernardino. Although I pictured as realistically as possible the life of a nurse (post mortems, deaths, insults, etc.) and otherwise discouraged her, she ignored my fatherly advice and turned around to join the Order of the Nightingales. You see, I may as well consider myself a complete failure as far as my capacity as a second Mr. Anthony is concerned. Nobody gives a darn about my advice at all. It’s rather discouraging, isn’t it? (However, I’m glad you heeded my advice regarding the Standard Oil deal. ‘Twas a moral victory!)

Another friend from San B., a school teacher, has presented me with a subscription to the National Geographic magazine, which is one of my favorites. Don’t you think that’s very nice of her? I am being taken care of alright. With every letter that I get from anybody comes an offer that I should let it be known if I needed anything. You know, it is very gratifying to know that quite a few people think of me. It’s a great life!

Starting August we’ll be getting 24 bottles of beer a month; that is a whole case, for half a pound. The Army is trying to make life here as comfortable as possible it seems. I suppose the government will look for volunteers to stay here after the war; as far as I am concerned, they can build me a mansion and I wouldn’t be persuaded to remain in this place, by Jupiter!

The news is very good and we will expect this war to be over by Christmas of ’45, we hope.

Well Sis, that’s about all I can think of at present; there have been no new developments All’s quiet at this front.

Give my regards to all.

Love,
Harry

My mother taught me to be good
At least as good as I was able;
Otherwise I think I could
Dress in ermine, mink, or sable.

P.S. What about that photograph of you that I have been asking for the last six months. Have one taken tomorrow and send it to me P.D.Q.

---

Eva seems to have learned letter writing from her mother - faithfully writing to her loved ones, even when they did not reply. Her sense of love and duty kept her going, even when she probably felt quite alone. At this point, she hasn’t heard from her parents in a few years. She probably knows they have been sent to Ravensbrück and Buchenwald and is helpless to do anything.

Eva and Harry both loved playing tennis, from the time they were children in Vienna. (See June 14 post.) We’ve seen examples of V-mail in earlier posts (see March 14 post). Mr. Anthony must have been extremely popular - Harry mentioned it in a previous letter. (See June 28 post). Is the poem original? Although it feels like it might be a song lyric or silly poem, I didn’t find anything in a quick search.

July 29

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A letter from Helene in Vienna to her children in San Francisco.

 Vienna, 29 July 1940

My dear children! When I write to you, it reminds me of my childhood, a game that I found very special:, if you have Thaler, buy something; don’t say yes, don’t say no, don’t jiggle, don’t shake, don’t shake, don’t say it’s not black or white. Just say yes to everything. Saying “yes” to everyone was never my weakness. There is no point in jiggling around, and in black and white, I just want to know that you’re okay and that you’re healthy and content. All of this you may assume for us, just that the lack of mail is a concern and that the possibilities of the reason for this are so many that it’s hard to know which version of the explanation one should decide on. You can’t shake the dice with this game. You just have to be calm; otherwise, you’ll lose.

Yesterday Papa and I went for a walk and we went to the Weißgerberlände [a street along the Danube near their apartment]. Since you’ve been gone, I have not visited this part of town. We noticed a house there that neither of us had ever noticed before, even though we’ve gone by there so many times. If it didn’t have the year of the building on it, we would have thought it was much newer construction. What we really noticed about the house is that the front was filled with bas reliefs, they were almost life sized. We used to go by such things and not even give it any thought. Whatever path we take, I just see you - every square, every street, every house reminds me of our walks together. In Stadtpark, I see you as small children; near the Prater Park, I see you as a little older youth, and in the city I have this picture of you in more recent times. This is a driving force that takes me there nearly every day. I stand there by every shoe store, not because I really want to buy a pair, but in memory of Eva, and in memory of Harry in photo shop windows. This kind of activity has become a very typical one for me. Sometimes I catch myself looking around for you if you’re maybe just catching up to me and at which picture window did you stop to look? With these crazy ideas, I spend my days. Recently I saw an illustrated newspaper that is probably more interesting to Eva. There I saw pictures of nurses who were taking care of soldiers. They were medical students who before they are allowed to begin their studies have to spend several months doing nursing duty and they must prove that they’ve done that. By the way, have you heard anything from Dr. Grete W? Eva, are you perhaps in touch with her and have you heard anything from Erni and Maxi? Their mother is someone I used to see every now and then, but I don’t know if they’re still here or maybe they moved somewhere else. We have only heard news from our Turkish relatives a couple of times since you’ve been over there. Our situation does not seem to interest them much if at all. Are you in correspondence with them? I would like to send you picture postcards of your favorite mosque and the bazaar. Since there is this interruption in postal service, I apparently am out of the picture as to what your interests are. I find it “funny” when Eva ends a letter with the excuse that she must wake the baby to go take a walk. Is that your idea or is that the mother’s idea? I really don’t think it’s a good idea to wake such a small child. Isn’t it more important for them to sleep than to take a walk? Maybe a little later and then you can maybe walk later and a little longer. What is Paul doing besides not writing to me and Robert? Have you heard anything from him? This letter will not go off until tomorrow morning. Maybe by then I will have received a letter from you. In this hope and expectation, I send my dearest kisses

Helen

---

I could not find the game Helene describes in a brief search, but we get the idea. It perfectly describes her helplessness and uncertainty. There is nothing she can do or say to change an impossible situation.

Helene walks through the streets of Vienna and sees nothing but ghosts of the past – her children at all ages – as children playing in the park and as teenagers interested in more worldly activities like fashion and photography. Friends are disappearing from Vienna, often without a word. It must have been very disconcerting and disorienting. Vitali’s Turkish relatives had their own challenges so could not be blamed for their perceived lack of interest, although Helene doesn’t understand that.

As I mentioned in an early post, at the end of my grandmother’s life she lost much of her memory — whether from Alzheimer’s, which did not have a name at the time, or from self-preservation to protect her from thinking about the horrors she had experienced. Her brain took her to pre-World War II Vienna, the happiest time in her life. When I visited her in the assisted living facility a few months before she died, she greeted me as a friend or stranger — she had no idea who I was. She asked if I knew her children, and pointed to a place seen only by her, where they were playing in the park. When I read this letter for the first time, I realized that this memory was her “happy place” and that it had kept her going during the many stressful times in her life.

The photo below shows the children at a bit younger than Helene describes as they walk past the shops of Vienna. Helene is on the left between Harry and Eva. I do not know the woman on the right.

July 28

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Today we see two letters that Eva kept with other documents and letters in an envelope marked “Otto.” Helene’s nephew Paul kept a copy of his reply to Otto’s letter Paul — he takes the lightest tone I’ve seen in any of his letters – he jokes about becoming a “rich American cousin.” If only he had succeeded!

Prague, 16 June 1939
(received June 28) 

Dear Paul!

Many thanks for your last letter, which I will answer in detail later.  

I just wanted to send you a short piece of news that on 10th of this month I married Steffi and I am sending you a photo.

Many greetings and kisses from Steffi as well. 

Your
Otto

P.S. On the 23rd, we will be moving into Robert’s apartment which we have rented for the foreseeable future.

718 W. 178th St.                                                                             July 28, 1939
c/o Cooper, Apt. 44
New York NY 

Dear Otto,

I was so happy to get your marriage announcement.  I know you will not regret this.  From the moment I met Steffi, I knew, despite difficulties in communicating, that she was a person one can get along with.  She will be a good housewife and a compassionate companion for you, just what one needs in these times.  Please translate my congratulations into good Czech for her.  Tell her of my request that she and I be on friendly terms, just as I have always been with you without any trouble at all.  I owe you a wedding present, and in order to pay this debt, I hope to become a “rich American cousin” as soon as possible.  With patience and luck this goal should be possible even nowadays, although it may be the exception.

My complaints about being lazy about writing letters are perhaps tempered somewhat by your failure to send me a detailed letter.  You are forgiven, of course!  But you won’t get a detailed description of my life, either. It’s bad, and uninteresting.  Thousands are running around who share my fate.  My intention is to go away from here, probably to San Francisco, if I don’t find something soon. Job opportunities are better anywhere but New York.  What are you going to do?  I think you have your job until September; and do you have any plans for later?  If you have time, tell me about it in detail, and let me know what your brothers, cousins and other relatives are doing.  If you get together with them, say hello from me, and tell them I’m sorry I haven’t written yet.

I know that you are dealing with my issues, since Leo Schauer wrote to me that he, in agreement with you, asked me to provide the bank with my address because of the locked-up papers (may mean:  frozen accounts).  I have done this.  How does it look re selling Czech state papers; do you think we will ever see anything from that?  Thank you so much for your trouble and care. – Also, re getting the sum back which I paid, under the title “surrender”, for the approval/permit of further (payments), I hope you can confirm that you have tried everything humanly possible.  I don’t suppose I will get the first 200 pounds back.  The first 200 pounds (and, after all, that is all I got approved) were tax free, and legally the ministry should return the surrendered amount, if not the donation demanded.  ---  I also wanted to ask you if Mother, from whom I haven’t heard in a long time, is receiving her full pension – and if not, why not?  You are in touch through letters with Robert, whom I’m very worried about.  Otherwise, I unfortunately don’t have any good news to tell you, other than the fact that I am in good physical health, except for being bothered by the New York hear and humidity.  That last thing is really a serious excuse for not writing.  --- Your climate probably has not changed, so I hope to hear from you.  Greetings and kisses from

---

We saw related letters in the July 4 and July 22 posts. I believe that Otto was one of Paul’s cousins. He wrote and sent packages from Prague to Helene and Vitali when they were in the camps.

July 27

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Today, we have a letter from Paul Zerzawy to his brother Robert. At this point, Paul is a soldier in Serbia and Robert is finishing high school in Brüx, Bohemia. Their mother and step-mother have both died, their father is in the army, and their grandmother (Helene’s mother) is taking care of Robert and his sisters. Their brother Erich is a soldier – we saw the only non-POW letter we have in the July 14 post.

Although this is one of the earliest letters in the archive, it is one of the last I had translated. In 1916, Paul was writing in the old German script known as Sütterlin which my friend and translator was unable to decipher. Given how generic Paul’s brother Erich’s postcards as a POW were, I wondered whether it would be worth finding a translator. But when Amei Papitto started translating the letters, I gained a new perspective on the times and on the Zerzawy family’s close relationship with their aunt/my grandmother.

The return address and stamp show that Paul was working in the Statistics Office of the Economics Group in Belgrade. As with letters written more than 20 years later, much of each letter is taken up discussing with the state of the postal service – although the postal service during World War I seems to have been far more efficient than in World War II – or at least when letters were being sent on the same continent. Paul mentions how he hasn’t heard from his loved ones – echoing the same message he often will receive decades later and a world away.

Paul mentions Mila – I don’t know who she was, but clearly she was an important person in their lives - Helene mentions her in letters to Paul in 1940 (see yesterday’s post).

Belgrad, 27 July 1916

Dear Robert!

You will receive these birthday congratulations late, because the assumption that I already talked to you about in Leibnitz that I would not be able to write in time has proven correct. It takes a little time to adapt to unusual circumstances, but now I have adapted and I find it quite nice here – if you discount little annoyances which are probably because of the southeastern geography.

I have not wandered around enough yet in the interesting parts of town in order to get something like a present for you. Let’s see what happens.

I have not received mail either from Papa or from Helene but it also is not really possible because a letter takes 3-4 days. But I have received 8 pieces of mail which were sent after me from Leitmeritz, including finally a letter from Papa, 2 cards from Erich, a letter from Helena.

Packages take 3 weeks to get here. I hope to get letters more often. I have enough money until the end of the month. Should I remain here longer, I will need more money. What I am doing here you can kind of detect more or less from the address. The description of what I am doing and of Belgrad and so on will follow as soon as I have written to Papa. Just a brief description for now of the trip. Leitmeritz to Vienna was a terrible night trip. A very overcrowded passenger train, but a military car. Helene was incredibly surprised and she offered me very sweet hospitality. I also visited Mila who bought a watch for me and gave me cigarettes. Because of the “trottelosis” [idiocy] of my military transport commander, already at night we continued our trip to Budapest, once again a bad night’s travel. There we were allowed to take a rapid train because of a good idea of mine. First class which was an incredible advantage in the very fertile but hot and boring Hungarian lowlands. At 2 o’clock we arrived at our destination. About an hour before Semlin, the visible signs of war began to appear. Ditches, destroyed buildings. The most interesting between Semlin and Belgrad was the railway bridge over the Sava. It was constructed in a temporary/makeshift way. Next to the railway bridge there is a pontoon bridge. During our journey we saw only in the distance the main goal of attack of our bombardment, but we also saw the buildings on the Lahn and we also saw that parts of the city on the Danube and Save are totally demolished. To be continued.

Robert Zerzawy sketching his grandmother with his sisters in the background.

July 26

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Today we see firsthand one of the challenges of sending mail from Vienna to the U.S. Helene wrote three letters to different family members, all on the same page to save on postage and paper. It appears from what she writes that she sent this letter along with the one we saw on July 23.  The first part of the letter is to her children Eva and Harry. The second is to her cousin Bertha and the third is to her nephew Paul. Note that the censorship number next to Helene’s note Bertha is different from that for the ones in German – clearly there were censors with a variety of language skills. This probably made it take even longer for the letter to reach its destination. Apparently, mail to England was impossible at this point so she sends birthday greetings to her nephew Robert in London via his brother Paul.

Vienna, 26 July 1940

My dear children! Twice a week we have the topic of debate if we should keep writing letters even if we do not receive an answer. Papa defends his negative stance and while I agree with him in principle, I defend my yes opinion and give as justification for that that we live in abnormal times. Since we both want to be right, I just keep on writing, tirelessly writing, and Papa consistently posts my letters. It seems like none of them have gotten to you anyway. So, you can see why numbers 42 and 43 are in the same envelope. Eva’s letter is the last news we have had (July 3). We haven’t heard a single word from Harry since June 10. Not a single word, not even his dying word. We got a card from Mila yesterday in which she informed us that Paul had sent by telegram, that they still have the same address for the time being, but that they might leave and travel further into the interior of the country. (?) Otherwise, there’s really nothing worth mentioning from here. Everything is going the same way it always does. Really nothing at all gets in the way of the monotony of our existence, the disappointment of getting absolutely no mail from you at all is the exception. Since I intend to write to all of our dear ones today as far as my weak brain will allow it, I am going to close with hot kisses and a big hug.

Mutti

——-

Dear Bertha! News I have not to say, I only can say the same, always the same, thanks! Sometimes, when I get mail regularly, I don’t feel the separation with my children as grueling, but in days - like these - life is dreadful. The power of imagination produces phantasm very terrible and my nice visions are gone suddenly. My limbs execute their moves mechanically, my mind has not anything to do with it. In the morning and at noon (the time when our mail carrier visits our block) I awake out of my lethargy, to fall back, when no letter extricates me. How long will do it?

I hope you, George and your children are well. Sure, they will spend their holidays with you. Do they not? Hoping to hear well news soon, I remain yours truly

Helen

——-

Dear Paul! For such a long time I heard nothing from you and I am so hungry for a few lines which really don’t need to say anything except that you’re doing okay, but only if it’s true. I am so afraid for you that I cannot really describe to you how afraid I am and I even don’t want to. Tomorrow is Robert’s birthday and please give to him my good wishes. Although I’ve heard from the other side that there has been a disruption in postal deliveries, my fears are not set to rest so easily. Please write soon. With letters it’s like the lottery. If you have more tickets, you have more chance of winning. Even if you do not have the foolish luck to play once and win the grand prize. My letter of today seems rather like a lottery ticket. You have each a quarter of it and this is of no value.

Many kisses
Helen

July 25

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

When translating my grandmother’s letters, we began with the typed letters to Helene’s children, which seemed most important and were most legible. My archivist sorted the letters by date, recipient, and the location they were found. Because of this, the handwritten letters to Paul were some of the last to be translated. As we have seen, these help us piece together the story of my family’s journey.

At the time of this letter, Eva and Harry are living in Istanbul to obtain passports to join Paul in America. In Vienna, Helene and Vitali are doing everything they can to organize their children’s passage. Paul is in New York, having arrived in the U.S. a few months earlier. He was sponsored by his mother’s cousin’s son Arthur Schiller (son of Bertha and George, with whom Eva would live when she arrived in San Francisco), a law professor at Columbia. Paul’s brother Robert has been in England for a few months. 

Vienna, 25 July 1939

Paul, why do you not write to me? I don’t know what I should think. Existential questions, different climate, tiredness, just no desire to write. Yeah, I know. I can imagine your situation, but just a postcard Paul, a postcard with just a few lines would be enough. It would free me of this pressure that I feel from your lack of writing. My fantasy does not come up with such beautiful flowers through my reading of trashy novels, but I live in Vienna and do you still remember a Wallace who needed to sit down to put out 300,000 editions for the army? Are you ever going to answer? We expect the children to be back soon when they have traveled in the shortest time, by ship. Arthur Schiller is at his parents’ house so I will probably have to ask you to take care of meeting the children and taking them in. Weren’t you in touch with the Schillers? Hasn’t he granted you any dispositions about the children? Bertha wrote to me that she hopes that the children will not arrive right when Arthur is not there, July-August. I don’t want to leave the children in Vienna any longer than I have to however. Papa Zentner told me good things about you about Dr. Heinz and French bread. Are you in touch with him? As soon as I know more details about the children’s departure, I will write to those two in case you may not be in New York, so they will be able to take care of them when they arrive.

Mela W wrote to me last week to ask how you are doing. Paula J also asked for your address, and Marie and Mila who have been in San Remo for 14 days to recover. This case, which in my opinion, is hopeless, in our circle of acquaintances has gone up in smoke. A letter from Robert, in whose health I believe very firmly, did bring me some joy. Few, in fact very few, familiar faces are here. The vacuum becomes greater every day. Please Paul, write, write, write.

Many kisses
Helen

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We get a real feel for the urgency Helene feels and how quickly things are changing in Vienna. Helene is trying to work out the logistics from afar – who will be in New York to meet her children when they arrive in the U.S.? Their ultimate destination is San Francisco, so she wants to make sure an adult familiar with how things work will be there to meet them and facilitate their journey.

I did a quick search for “Wallace 300,000 army WWI” and found an article about Colonel William Wallace, who commanded an American unit in Italy in 1918. According to the article, although theirs was the only unit stationed there, the Austrians believed that they would be facing 300,000 men. Wallace decided to play on their fears and made it appear like he had many more men. The main definition of the word Auflagen is “edition”. Other definitions relate to printing terms like copies and impressions. Given Helene’s experience in newspapers and stationery perhaps she was alluding to how Wallace made it seem like there were many more “copies” of men.

July 24

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we remember Paul Zerzawy, Helene’s beloved nephew.

Paul was born on October 2, 1895 and died on July 24, 1948 at the age of 53. He was born in Bilin in Bohemia, as had been his mother and aunt. He was a soldier in Romania in World War I, survived the 1918 flu, lived and worked as an attorney in Vienna, and came to the U.S. in 1939. He helped his young cousins come to the US and tried in vain to help their parents do so. He found it difficult to make a living in his new home. He was unable to establish himself as an attorney, but found that he could make use of his musical avocation.

The doctor who signed Paul’s death certificate was Dr. Gropper. I remember that name because Dr. Marc Gropper was my mother’s physician until he retired. Like my mother, he was born in Europe and his family escaped Vienna in 1938 and eventually landed in San Francisco. Although he would have been too young to have been a doctor in 1948, his father was also a doctor so it appears that his family cared for mine for decades.

When Paul came to San Francisco, his mother’s cousin Hilda and her husband Nathan Firestone welcomed him into their home. Nathan died in 1943. Paul’s will shows how grateful he was to Hilda for all she had done for him.

As I was preparing this post, it occurred to me to look for an obituary for Paul. I found it in the San Francisco Examiner. In addition, I found two brief items mentioning him in earlier editions of the Examiner and the San Francisco Chronicle.

His death notice on page 11 of the July 26, 1948 issue of the Examiner reads:

“ZERZAWY – In this city, July 24, 1948. Paul Zerzawy, cousin of Mrs. Nathan Firestone; a native of Czechoslovakia, aged 52 years. A member of Musicians’ Union, Local No. 6.”

 Although the newspaper lists his age as 52, he was 53 at the time of his death.

On page 50 of the February 25, 1940 issue of the Examiner in the “Music and Art World” section, a small advertisement appears:

“New Piano Studio. Formerly of Vienna and Prague, Paul Zerzawy has opened at the Heine Piano Company, 279 O’Farrell Street, a piano studio for instruction, for coaching in ensemble and for accompaniment.”

On page 55 of the May 11, 1941 Chronicle, an item on a meeting of the National Council of Jewish Women mentioned that Paul Zerzawy would be a “guest musician” during the intermission of a presentation.

My mother often spoke of the musical evenings she enjoyed as a child at their home in Vienna. I now realize that the music was often supplied by her older cousin Paul. Fortunately, his love of music and avocation of playing piano allowed him to make at least a meager income in San Francisco.

In item 4 of his will, Paul leaves his personal effects to Hilda and his brother Robert in England, and indicates that whatever is left should be destroyed. Under item 6, he states: “I assume that Hilda will contact my cousins Eva Goldsmith and Harry Lowell to find out if there is anything of interest to them.” Eva kept Paul’s photo albums and official papers and Harry kept a box with copies of letters and loose photographs. Paul’s gifts to our family in life and in death were invaluable.

July 23

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have another letter from Helene in Vienna to her children in San Francisco. When the children came to the U.S., they were split up and sent to live with different relatives and attend different high schools.

Vienna, 23 July 1940

My dear children. It’s not easy for me to write to you today because I am very worried about Harry because I haven’t heard a single line from him. On the other hand, I don’t want to worry you or fill your heads with worry if it’s just a matter of a disreputable postal service, so you must keep in mind that I am worried and try to put yourself in my shoes, even if just for a few moments. Time is really dragging from one postal delivery to the next and the disappointed hopes when no letter arrives cause an emptiness which is quite agonizing. My attempts to form a halfway reasonable thought are not going to be as successful today. However, just to reassure you about how we are doing, I do assure you that we are healthy and everything is going fine except for the agonizing worry which does disappear when the writing from little Harry will appear, which we so desire. In lighter moments I say to myself that Eva’s dear little letter of the 3rd of this month is so filled with happiness that the thought that there could be anything wrong with Harry is absurd. But then come the evil thoughts like demons and they whisper to me: “How does Eva know how Harry is doing because they’re not together anymore?” I feel sorry for Papa who has to put up with my presence on such days. He really earns my admiration.

There’s a little showpiece from our wax figure shop: an old man, forgive the expression, but the man was old, even for an old man - he was closer to 100 than 90. He came into the store, trembling and halting, asked for a postcard of Egypt. While Papa was sticking Ramses into an envelope, the old guy said “One more time I’d like to climb up on a pyramid and spit on the entire world.” When Papa asked him “why do you want to go to so much trouble?”, he put his treasure in his pocket, coughing, he said his goodbyes and he left the store, and in his mind he was probably already back in the land of the Pharaohs. There’s got to be some sort of philosophy of life implied in this wish of the old man - to spit on the entire world, well, sure that’s a very freeing thought! I really can’t do anything more today. Maybe there’s mail from you on Friday and I will make everything right again. Please write in detail and soon and please say hello to all of our dear ones most sincerely.

In love,
Your Mutti
Helen

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There is a handwritten note at the top that numbers this Letter as #42 since 2 letters were sent that were numbered #39. However, I do not have a #39 in my archive. We saw 2 letters with Clipper No. 40 in the post on July 19 — perhaps that is what Helene meant. Or perhaps letters #39 never made it to their destination.

As with the July 19 post, we have a window into the non-metaphysical world of Helene and Vitali’s stationery shop Libansky & Co, eking out a living selling pencil sharpeners and picture postcards.

Harry was a bit of a hoarder, but only in one room and more I think from a sense that everything could come in handy and that one never knows when you’ll need to escape and will have no resources. Not a surprising attitude, given his life experience. My mother Eva was similar. Neither Eva nor Harry were very good at organizing their possessions with any rhyme or reason. They tossed odd assortments of things into boxes and put them “away”, rarely being able to find something that had been put into a safe place. The boxes might have letters, photos, paper clips, pens, pads of paper, knick knacks, etc. Like a little box of treasure. Which my cousins and I thought of as junk.

In the last few years of Harry’s life, I helped him organize his things. I didn’t have a lot of hope about making progress, but it was a wonderful excuse to spend time with him. I made him promise not to throw out important papers or photos, and he kept that promise, as evidenced by this blog. He held out the prospect of our going through the photos one day when we were “done,” something I realized we’d never be.

On one of our sorting sessions, we came across the small leather portfolio in the photo below. It was in great condition and I didn’t think much of it. Something he’d hung onto but seemed ready to let go of. I was eager to add it to the pile to go to the thrift shop. However, when I opened the portfolio, there was the label, which meant nothing to me. Harry off-handedly mentioned that the label was from his parents’ shop in Vienna. I had never known the name and suddenly this worthless item was priceless to me. I took it home to keep it safe, so it wouldn’t be thrown back into a box of stuff, perhaps never to be unearthed again.

Below is a page of stationery stores from the 1925 phone book from Vienna. At the bottom of the left column, my grandmother’s name is listed as the proprietor of Libansky & Co. (highlighted in green)

July 22

Link to Family Tree to understand family relationships.

Today we have copies of letters sent from Paul Zerzawy in New York to Bohemian Union Bank in Prague and to Leo Schauer. We saw earlier letters from Leo Schauer in the July 4 post.

Paul has been in New York for a few months and has had trouble finding work. Paul seems to have been an unreliable correspondent, apologizing for how few letters he has written. Helene consistently complains about his silence. Paul seems to have written when there was important business to attend to. I sometimes wonder whether it was a sense of embarrassment and disappointment at not having been more successful that kept him from writing more often. His life in the U.S. was difficult, he did not find consistent work to support himself, let alone to have enough money to help his relatives abroad. Very different from being a successful attorney in Vienna.

The “emergency bank notes” Paul mentions may be related to the newspaper article we saw in the April 3 post.

From what I’ve been able to piece together from my letters and papers, Leo is Paul Zerzawy’s father’s 3rd wife Elise’s brother. Although he calls Elise “mother”, Paul was in his mid-20s and on his own when they married. Otto was some sort of Zerzawy cousin and worked at Union Bank. Fritz Orlik is Elise’s son from a previous marriage. We saw a letter from him from 1940 in the January 25 post.

New York, 24 July 1939

To the Bohemian Union Bank

Prague I., Graben.

I have on deposit with you K120,000 [Czech crowns] in emergency bank notes which are mortgaged with K60,000.

Hereby I communicate to you that I have changed my permanent address from Prag VII., Belcrediho 68. I ask that you make a note of my new address:

Mr. Paul Zerzawy, 718 West 178th Street, c/o Cooper, Apt. 44, New York City, U.S.A.

Very truly yours:

---

 24 July 1939

Dear Leo!

I am sending this letter to you to tell you that I followed your advice exactly and I thank you for the advice. The letter is for all of you though. I ask you not to blame me if I did not write directly to you. Up until now, rather, I sent my greetings through my mother and I let you know my news that way. Since you have read my letters, you are informed about me. You understand what it is like to write letters in the famous New York heat, or humidity rather. You see it in my spelling errors. I imagine the number of letters I owe is about 60, but you understand however that one has psychic considerations, one feels sort of stuck because one cannot yet really say what would be by far the most interesting thing about my letters: that I can in fact support myself. Except for that I am doing well and I don’t really worry about myself, but only abut about you, how it’s going in the other half of the world and what the future may bring. I thank you that you are taking care of Mother and our affairs. I would like to know that Anny is in England and hear that Fritz and Hanne have sent news. Please when you write to your loved ones, please greet them for me too and I will write in time myself. 

Many greetings from your

[On side of letter:]

If provisions should be necessary for my affairs which could not be taken care of in letters that I wrote before I left to my mother, please get in touch with Otto Z who has my written power of attorney.