Stopover in Germany

Being in the American zone made us happy but we still had the fear of Stalin in our hearts. We could have stayed in Hanover that night and taken the fast train to Munich the next day but we decided to take the slow train that was leaving in a couple of hours just to get away from the border. We had to change trains many times before we reached our destination. There were many Jewish refugees in Munich, so-called DPs (displaced persons). They were organized and had a Central Committee that took care of their affairs. I met several of my old friends there: Isya Shapiro, Livazer, a Polish refugee who was in the ghetto in Shavli with us, all four Pesachovitz brothers and many more. They had been liberated by the American army a year earlier after they had been taken out of the concentration camps and were being driven on the last trip - the death march - to the Alps where they were to be liquidated. The Americans had come just in time. During the year since then they had organized the Central Committee on Moehlstrasse which worked like a government and which handled all Jewish affairs. The majority of DPs had been settled in DP camps. This was done with the cooperation of the American military government and American Jewish organizations.

At first we stayed with Leizer Pesachovitz then, for a short time, with Wulf who gave up his room for us on Belgrade Strasse. Wulf was, at that time, the chief director of a hospital, Bogenhausen, which served the DPs and Rachel, Chaim's wife (now Rachel Lapidus of Montreal), was the secretary for the Central Committee. When we arrived all of them were more-or-less established and they tried to help us. They found a job for me as principal of the ORT (Organization for Rehabilitation through Training) vocational school in Feldafing, a little town in Bavaria which had a large DP camp on the grounds of a previous Hitler Youth Camp. This camp consisted of several large buildings which could accommodate thousands of people. Most of the inmates lived in large halls but, because of my new position, I was accorded a separate room. That was quite a privilege. I had to provide myself with some furniture, but the opportunity to have a private room was wonderful. It was quite a job to get a couple of army beds and a little iron stove and a couple of pillows and blankets but we managed it well enough because we had lots of acquaintances in the storerooms of warehouses that were distributing the goods of the war. To secure a pillow or an army blanket was an event and called for a celebration. As far as food went, we used to get rations from the UNRA organization. Besides food, we also got a few cigarettes, some chocolate, etc. We felt very rich and comfortable. I got busy organizing my school and we were all waiting for the new baby to come.

There was no hospital in Feldafing but not far away, in Eresing, there was a convent, St. Ottilien's, that had been transformed into a hospital for DPs. When the time came, Gita went there and, on the first of August, 1946, I got the news that a son was born, Leo. We had a great celebration. I even wrote a poem on this occasion and a first-class Mohel (a man who performs circumcisions) was brought in. I spent half my assets--a $20.00 gold coin--on this. We then settled down again in our room in Feldafing. Looking back now, I think that the period we spent in that small room - Gita, Ruth, myself and the little Leo - was the happiest time in my life. After all the tragic events we had passed through, first the ghetto times, then the Russian phase and finally the dangerous voyage west, all accompanied by fear, I found living in freedom was wonderful. As principal of the school I had additional rations of food plus some cigarettes and chocolates - I was rich! With the first extras I received I bought a violin. I traded several packages of cigarettes for it. It turned out to be an original Stainer, made in 1647.

There were several departments in the ORT. ORT was an old established network of vocational schools which originated in Russia and then spread throughout the whole world. It is still active now, having hundreds of schools in Israel and South America and everywhere that there are centers of Jewish population. The center for the ORT schools was, at that time, in Munich and the chairman was Oleisky, a friend of mine who is still the chairman of this world organization and living in Tel Aviv. Naturally, it was financed by American Jews. We had several departments in Feldafing--mechanical, electrical, plumbing, etc. These departments were mainly for young boys. There were also departments for girls and grown women--sewing, corsettry, etc. Naturally, we had problems getting materials and machines and trained instructors. I had lots of fun doing the job.

I had no worries and no need for money or anything else. I just enjoyed the new freedom. However, it didn't last long. One day I got a visit from a man by the name of Israel (Sroel) Noik. Before the war he had lived in a small village near Shavli where he had a lumber mill. I didn't know him before the war but he knew me. He came to me one day and asked me a very simple question: "How long are you going to be a melamed? (teacher)"

"Why?" I asked him.

He replied, "There is money on the ground. You only have to scoop it up. You have to make leather, not teach children. Let's open a tannery."

I hadn't even thought about going into business. I was quite comfortable where I was but he insisted and finally got me into partnership with him and his brother, Isaac. We had no money and we had no license. There was no way to get a license unless we found a place where there had been a tannery before the war. Sroel dug up a place where, at one time in the nineteenth century, there had been a tanner. On this basis we obtained a license to operate. The legal side of the business was my responsibility because Sroel didn't know German and had, in general, a very low official education. He had a very sharp brain, though, and was a first-class businessman.

We organized a limited company by the name of Gerberei Diessen. Diessen was a beautiful town on the lake Ammersee. It was untouched by the events of the war. Most of the people were fishermen and the population lived a very comfortable life. It was also a summer resort and people came from all over the country to sail on the Ammersee. The tannery was in the middle of the main street that crossed the town. The owner of the building, Groeble, was actually a farmer. He had some land in the back of the property and a couple of cows. I don't remember how much we paid him for allowing us to start this so-called tannery but he rented us his garage, sold us his DKW two-seater car and we started to operate. The first equipment consisted of pails in which we got the herring in the DP camp. Looking back, I don't know how, exactly, I managed it all. I had many acquaintances in Germany and visited several firms which built or sold machinery and chemicals and from which I managed to get the major necessities to start something. Then I had to train the local people to work. We started to tan hides, selling them mostly to shoe manufacturers in Munich who were hungry for leather and were happy to take anything offered to them. We managed to get, through war surplus, a wooden barrack and we put a nice sign on it which said, "Gerberei Diessen". We hired a secretary and started to look more-or-less businesslike. We could only tan small hides, sheep or goat or calf skins.

One day a good-looking middle aged man, Herr Strauss of Augsburg, came to Diessen to sail. He noticed our sign and came in to have a look at our operation. He had a factory which manufactured leather coats in Augsburg and said he would very much like to buy larger quantities of leather from us. We told him we had no money for this but he said, "I will finance you." He gave us a contract and guaranteed credit through the local bank. Due to this, we started to operate a pretty lucrative business.

Travelling around the country and meeting people whom I had known before, I happened one day to be at Stuttgart visiting Mr. Lang of Lang und Groenwald. Before the war he used to sell the tannery in Shavli various chemicals. He sold me, for a nominal price , a rolling machine. While I was in his office he asked me about details of the war. I told him many things about ghetto life and then I told him that I owed my life and existence to Siegel because, I said, he had been my protector. Siegel was the superintendent of the tannery in Shavli under the Germans and, as I said earlier, he shot four innocent people as they tried to escape. I was determined to find him and bring him to justice. Instead, I told Mr. Lang that I would like to find him and thank him for all the good he had done for me. I used to tell that same story to all the German people I met during my travels. Otto Lang told me he had not heard where Siegel was but if he found out he would be sure to let me know. Lang was smart enough to guess why I wanted to find Siegel but the secretary in the office next door, who overheard our whole conversation, called out: "Don't you remember? Siegel was here two weeks ago." She immediately found his address and gave it to me. Siegel lived in a small town deep in the woods near Frankfurt.

Now that I had found him I had to get him arrested. This was not an easy job. It happened that I had an acquaintance in the American military government in Landsberg and he advised me what to do. I had to get ten witnesses to the shooting and present their affidavits to the military government. I got the signatures and the Americans, in turn, had to get the German police in Frankfurt to make the arrest. We sent our car from Gerberei Diessen for this purpose and my partner, Isaac Noik, and a fellow, Schuetz, from the military government went to Frankfurt. There they picked up the German police and finally got Siegel into handcuffs near his house while his wife cried from far away, "I knew that one day this would come!"

The trial was in Augsburg. I was the crown witness. We had enough people to testify. The result was very disappointing. He got four years in jail for killing four people. However, I was happy at that time that I did at least accomplish that much.

At first we three partners, Sroel, Isaac and I, got a couple of rooms in the home of inhabitants of Diessen, the Pichilles. They were an old, well-established couple who kept a few cows and horses. The Pichilles had survived the war as though nothing had happened. They were not an exception because the destruction of Germany through bombing was concentrated exclusively on the large industrial centers while the countryside was left untouched. During my stay in Germany I visited many of these little towns and none of them had suffered any damage from bombing or otherwise. They had their own food supplies, their own wine cellars. Their beautiful furniture and carpets were untouched just as if nothing had happened.

The Pichilles treated us very well until each of us got a place to live. They claimed, as did most Germans, that they had known nothing of the atrocities against the Jews.

There was a great shortage of housing after the war but for Jews there were no excuses since, at that time, Jews had first priority in everything. When I went to the mayor and requested an apartment for my family I was given the completely furnished suite of a Nazi who had run away and was in hiding. Later I got acquainted with this "Nazi". She turned out to be a very nice lady by the name of Frau Brandt. When she came back she occupied a room in the attic where she lived with her two little dogs, Husie and Pusie, which the kids liked to play with, and a grand piano which I decided not to take away from her. She was a wonderful pianist. I can still remember the first time I heard her playing Cesar Franck's "Symphonic Variations". We became friends but I could always sense the animosity she felt toward me because I had taken away her apartment. She moved later to Munich and we corresponded from time to time.

Isaac's family lived in Munich. Sroel had a daughter who lived in Munich also while he himself had a place in Diessen where he lived with a German woman and her daughter.

It may be hard for many to believe that a Jewish man, who knew about the atrocities the Germans had inflicted on the Jewish people during the war, could again be friendly to a German person, even a woman. The fact is that Sroel was not a big exception. A number of Jewish men who survived the Holocaust became involved with German women and, even in the early years after the war ended, there were a number of mixed marriages. It is hard to believe--and even harder to understand--how that happened. Probably it is a human characteristic to forget or, maybe, to forgive. There is no question that sexual attraction played a great role in this respect because many German women were attractive and knew how to handle their love affairs.

Still, the general feeling of the liberated Jews toward the German population was a mixture of hatred and fear because we never knew if the individual German we met had been personally involved in the atrocities. All of them denied any knowledge of the atrocities.

Four kilometers from Diessen there had been a labor camp that was associated with the notorious Dachau concentration camp. Every day there were killings in the labor camp and deaths from starvation and cold. Every day vehicles of prisoners went to town to pick up supplies. It would have been impossible not to know what was happening. Yet, when I lived in Diessen after the war, all of the people I spoke to stated categorically that they had had no knowledge of the labor camp or of any other camps.

At first every one of us just tried to make a living and to resume a normal life. The fact is, however, that nearly one hundred percent of the Jewish survivors in the DP camps left Germany. They didn't trust the Germans and used all sorts of means and ways to get off the hated German soil as soon as possible.

At that time, Sroel's son and wife were in Siberia. Sroel and his family had been in the ghetto in Shavli with us. They had escaped from the Germans and were later liberated by the Red Army just as we were. They were also in Vilnius after the war. Sroel tried to escape from the Russians in a similar way as we did but he wasn't so lucky. The Russian secret police were tipped off that a group of people was going by truck toward Poland. The truck was stopped half way and all the participants were packed in an open police truck to be taken to jail. There were two or three NKGB men on the truck but Sroel managed to jump off and escape. They chased him but never caught him. His wife and son were arrested and sentenced to ten years in Siberia but the girl, who was a minor, was released. Later she joined her father and they managed to get to the American zone of Germany.

In Diessen we started, as I said, to operate that little tannery. Our main business, however, was an illegal trade because it was forbidden to buy and sell raw hides. The American authorities allowed the German tanneries to change raw hides into finished leather but, as they wouldn't let them buy the raw hides, the operators of these tanneries tried to get the hides by illegal means. We used to get raw hides from the DP camps. The camps were not allowed to sell them and used to just bury them. Hence, when we offered to buy, they sold them to us cheap. We would then exchange them for ready-made leather. This leather we took to Munich and resold, ironically enough, to people who sent it to the Soviet Union. It was a pretty lucrative business in the terms of those days.

Our "big boss", Sroel, used to stay in Diessen while Isaac and I did the travelling. We used to take the company's car, the DKW, and go to the large DP center, Landsberg, where we could get everything on the black market. I used to buy various meats, like Salami, cheeses, imported wines, textiles for making suits and other clothes, etc. These items were unobtainable in the stores and were very much desired by the Germans. We used what we secured there as bribes for the German directors of the big tanneries - introductory gifts, so to speak. It was not easy because these directors were often afraid to take bribes and we were not always successful.

Once we had made a deal we had to hire a truck, load the raw hides, haul them four or five hundred kilometers to Backnang, exchange them and bring the ready leather back to Diessen where it was stored in hiding until the time came to deliver to our buyers. Usually we travelled at night but we were nevertheless quite often stopped by the military police and the contents of the vehicle checked. From earlier experience with the Russians and Germans I had a good knowledge of how to make the necessary documents. We usually got through. Our truck was seized only once and that was not through our own fault. During the inspection of our truck the military police discovered that the tires had been stolen from the army and the whole truck, together with the goods, was taken to the police station. On that occasion I was travelling with Sroel. After we arrived at the police station, Sroel managed to run away and I got stuck with the whole load of hides. However, I had made such wonderful papers covering the shipment that I was later released amidst great apologies from the police. In the meantime, though, I had several anxious hours.

Actually, everything was illegal at that time and in that area. Nothing was allowed. We were not even allowed to travel on Sundays--you needed a special permit to drive a private car on a Sunday. I never failed to get one, though, with the help of a piece of leather. The officers knew this in advance and would bring the document to my home.

Once, while I was still principal at the ORT school, we did get into trouble with this Sunday permit. It was on Christmas Eve, 1947. We had arranged to spend the Christmas weekend in Munich and the first evening we had a poker game at Isya Shapiro's house. The players were Isya, Misha Slezin, Itzhik Volpe and myself. Every one of us had a Sunday permit and we had parked our cars on the street in front of Isya's house. In those days cars didn't have tail lights like they do now. The rule was, rather, to keep a parking light on in the evening. We started to play poker during the daylight hours and didn't think about our cars until late at night. The police, in the meantime, discovered our cars because the parking lights were not on and started an investigation. The excuse we made up for being there was that we were holding a technical meeting. Isya was an officer in the American Pharmaceutical Association and Slezin dealt in plumbing supplies (he called himself an engineer). The purpose of the meeting, we said, was to discuss medical and sanitary conditions in my school. We hoped to get by with our excuses but initially we were unsuccessful. Finally Slezin, who knew all the ins and outs, found the right officer. For a couple of bottles of cognac he agreed to cancel the investigation.

When we sold the ready leather that we acquired we often were given American dollars for it. This money was illegal for non-Americans to possess so we kept it hidden. Most of the transactions were made, not in the banks or other financial institutions, but directly on the sidewalks of Moelstrasse. That was the way of life there at that time. Simple things, which are not considered crimes here in Canada, were considered illegal there. Dealing on the black market was considered an accepted and normal way of life. Even receiving parcels from relatives in the United States was not completely allowable.

When we got Ruth back from Ona we also got the addresses of our American relatives and I got in touch with them. One of them was Mary Jacobson, the sister of Milton Shufro who had visited us in Shavli. Mary took great care of us. She mobilized all her sisters and brothers and cousins and they used to send parcels to us regularly every week or so. Mostly, the parcels contained food--chocolates, instant coffee, honey, sugar and cereals. The only thing that they were not allowed to send was American cigarettes, which had the greatest value. Mary preferred to send me All Bran instead and used to write to me that All Bran was very good for regularity. I didn't like it so I used to pack the boxes into a clothes closet at Belgrade Stasse (When we left Munich, I kept the room on Belgrade Strasse that Wulf had given to us.) Later, when I decided to give up that room, I was stuck with a whole bunch of cartons of All Bran. While I was trying to decide what to do with them one box fell on the floor and burst open. It was full of cigarettes. This was a great and pleasant surprise. Mary, who lives in Chicago, is a wonderful person. She is now old and sick but she keeps in touch with us. She visited us here in Vancouver once. We took her to Parksville on Vancouver Island where we spent several weeks together. When we came to Canada, Mary managed to send us a great sum of money--several hundred dollars--which was very helpful. She and her family are not rich people but all of them did their best for us.

We stayed in Diessen four and a half years. We were considered very well off, which was mainly due to the fact that my partners liked to show off. We each acquired cars and would, every weekend or so, go to Munich, which was not far away, where we attended shows and parties. In general we had a pleasant time. During the week, Ruth stayed in Munich where she attended Hebrew school. She came home weekends and took music lessons in Diessen. Despite our affluence, however, we felt that this was not the way we wanted to continue our lives. The idea of staying on German soil, no matter how well off we were economically, was abhorrent to us and every one of us was looking for a way to leave Germany. This was a problem.

In 1946, when we landed in Munich, my first problem had been to decide who I was. I could keep the name Max Wise that appeared in the false documents made for me in Breslau. Alternately, I could go back to my real name again but I thought I might be uncomfortable with it because the fear of Stalin was still in our minds. I also had to decide on a place of birth. I could have chosen to be whoever I wanted but, in the end, we decided to go back to our real identities. At first we gave, as our birthplace, the city of Tilsit which was just inside the German border. That would give us a better chance to emigrate to the United States because Germany had a very high quota according to U.S. immigration laws. In some documents we are still stuck with this birthplace.

At the beginning, immigration to the United States was the only way to get out of Germany. When Israel was established in 1948 a new way out was opened up. Immigration to Canada was very restricted and only in the later years was there more chance to go here. We intended, to begin with, to go to Israel and begin a tannery there. We had started to look for machinery and equipment in Germany and had already sent several machines to Israel. Gita's sister, Bliumit, lived in Israel and her husband, Daniel, found a small garage at ten Shderoth Chen to store the machines for us until we got there. However, it took a long time to get the papers necessary and to get more machines.

Bliumit and Daniel had emigrated to Israel in the early thirties. In Shavli, Daniel had worked in a bank where he was considered as an important employee. However, because of the Depression, he was laid off shortly after their marriage and they moved to Israel. That was a stroke of luck for them. Who knows what their fate would have been had they been in Europe during the war? In Israel, Daniel worked first in a bank and later set up an insurance agency called Hassut (which means "security"). It is at the corner of Rothschild and Herzl streets and this office is still being operated now on a larger scale by his son, Coby.

Coby is now happily married and lives with his wife, Rachel (Chele), and they have two terrific boys. They live in Tel Aviv and his sister Talma is a professor of medicine in the University of Tel Aviv. She is a well-known expert on high blood pressure and a special department for research in this area is going to be established soon in Tel Aviv by a distant relative of theirs, Mr. Chorley, in memory of Daniel and Bliumit. Daniel and Bliumit were lucky to escape the Holocaust but, regrettably, both of them died young. Daniel died first. He succumbed to cancer six years ago and was followed by Bliumit, who also died of cancer, in 1978. Gita and I had a chance to again meet Bliumit in Tel Aviv shortly before her death. We are steadily in contact with Coby and his family and with Talma, all of whom we love as if they were our own children.

During the war Bliumit and Daniel lost all contact with us. They knew about the tragedy of the Lithuanian Jews and didn't expect that we would survive the Holocaust. Naturally, they followed the course of the war very closely. When Daniel would go home for lunch he would pick up his daily newspaper in the kiosk at the corner of Herzl Boulevard and Sheinkin and would then walk home reading it. One Jewish paper, the Einikeit used to be printed in Moscow at that time and one day Daniel was reading it and he noticed a photograph of a person who looked like me. It was, in fact, my picture and was taken by a reporter who was in Shavli shortly after the liberation. That was the first news they received that we had survived the war. Daniel kept the paper on his desk under a sheet of glass until I had the chance to go to Israel. I still have it here.

As we intended to move to Israel we sent, besides the tannery machines, other items for ourselves and for Bliumit. We shipped two pianos, refrigerators, carpets and so on. After we changed our minds and moved to Canada I took some of the money I received for these items and invested it in Israel together with Daniel.

While we were making our plans to go to Israel the world situation became tense once again. The cold war started. There was a blockade of Berlin and the animosity between the United States and Russia was reaching threatening levels. We were afraid of getting trapped in a war situation again. Being unable to get legal documents, we tried to find illegal ways of leaving Germany. We found out that there were ways of getting immigration visas to South American countries and that Paris was the place to look for them. But how to get to Paris? We found a way through a middleman. We got Polish passports (for me and for Isaac) which, we were told, were made by the Polish consulate in Paris. They were supposed to be authentic Polish documents but turned out to be completely fake. Luckily, no one discovered that till later on when we were back in Munich and the whole ring was uncovered. Isaac and I spent a couple of weeks in Paris. We got some semi-official documents to take us to Guatemala but we later decided not to use them.

After the collapse of the ring that supplied the Polish passports we did not feel too secure and no longer believed in the authenticity of the documents we had obtained to take us to South America. As a result we continued to look for ways to emigrate to Canada or the United States. My partners had some relatives in Canada who helped me locate a cousin of my grandmother Weiss. He made arrangements for us to receive permits to emigrate to Canada. Still, there were disagreements between the partners about relinquishing our assets in Germany. However, the cold war became more intense at that time and the Korean affair started in 1950 and this helped us decide to go to Canada. In the back of my mind the main obstacle to going to Israel was that Gita had developed heart trouble and I was sure that the great heat of the Israeli climate would adversely affect her health. After many deliberations and hot quarrels between Sroel, Isaac and myself we decided to liquidate our goods in Israel and embark on the trip to Canada. I went to Israel with Sroel and we stayed there a couple of weeks. Bliumit and Daniel were very unhappy about our decision and all of us hoped that in a short time we would be able to return there.

While in Israel I purchased, together with Daniel, a lot in Bat Yam, a resort town south of Jaffa. I paid for my part by selling the goods I had transferred to Israel. This property, which consisted of four Arab-style apartments plus a separate little building, is still there and Coby has taken good care of it since Daniel's death.

After making the application for immigration to Canada we had to go through many formalities, screenings and medical tests. It was a long, drawn-out process. We had to go to Karlsruhe to take the medical tests, go back home, then return to Karlsruhe and talk to the screening officer. Every one of us was examined. We waited again on pins and needles. Finally the good news came and it was wonderful to know we would be able to leave the European continent where we had had to survive so many hardships. We did not know then that the future held its own hardships.

Next we had to sell our tannery and get tickets and accommodation for the trip. All this was very costly and very complicated. Sroel found a buyer for the tannery, however, and we got a fairly good price. We managed to secure first-class cabins on the S.S. Franconia which was sailing the beginning of March, 1951, from Liverpool. The Noik brothers and their families travelled with us as did Osher and Lotte Yashuner. (Osher and Lotte changed their names to Oscar and Lotte Jason as soon as they arrived in Canada.) I transferred the money, via unofficial means, to Switzerland. This was a risky business. Since it was illegal nothing was on paper and there was nothing to stop the middlemen from taking all my money. I took the chance, though, and it worked. A friend who didn't dare take this chance tried to take his money with him when he left Germany. It was discovered and all taken from him.