Many happy returns to you too on your birthday. Its very cold here. Do you go skating a lot, we do I learned it too. did you get lots of presents. Is Granny doing better, I hope she is. Is it nice living together. Granny told us alot about it. This isnt much of a birthday letter but I hope you like it, hugs to everyone most especially to you also to Berndt.
Anne
It is worth noting that Anne wrote this letter in German, a language that she apparently knew better in 1938 than she did later. Or possibly someone wrote out sentences in German for her to copy. In any case, her later letters were all written in Dutch and accompanied by translations (not always very good ones) from Otto.
What was the family’s life like, together on Herbstgasse? Alice had a room where she could have her own furniture, probably including a fold-out card table since the family liked to play a lot of games. We know that they often played cards and that everyone liked solitaire. Leni had a regular bridge circle on Wednesdays, which she continued to participate in even after she started her antiques business and became the family’s main breadwinner. Alice spent a lot of time in her room doing needlework; even today the house is full of tablecloths, place mats, napkins, and linens that she hemmed, embroidered, or embellished with lace or monograms. The traces of her agile hands are everywhere. She didn’t go out much, apparently, but where should she have gone? She was not the type to just go for a walk.
No mementos of Grandma Ida, Erich’s mother, have been passed down, and strangely there are only a few photographs of her as well. Buddy says that she was an inconspicuous, modest woman with few needs; no one noticed much of anything about her, except that she was constantly cleaning “somewhere upstairs,” to the point that Erich, her son, sometimes asked her to stop. She and Alice had little in common. “You cannot imagine two more polar opposites than my two grandmothers,” Buddy says, although he doesn’t remember any fights or conflicts between them. Maybe in that whirligig of a house, with two growing boys and two rather dominant women, Grandma Ida didn’t have many chances to stand out. It could also well be that Alice—“the Queen,” as the family often called her (in English)—and Leni simply intimidated her and that she therefore kept herself well in the background.
Letter from Anne Frank to her cousin Stephan Elias, December 1938 (photo credit 5.4)
Letter from Anne Frank to her grandmother Alice, December 1938 (photo credit 5.5)
While the family in Basel was busy working out these new arrangements, life in Amsterdam went on as well—not without cares and worries, but to a certain extent normally. After the German pogrom, Edith’s two brothers escaped to America and her mother came to join the Franks in Amsterdam. Among the cache of documents there is a letter that Edith wrote to Hedda Eisenstadt, her former neighbor, on December 24, 1937. It shows that Edith was worried and that Otto may have tried to arrange their immigration to England:
Dear Hedda,
Finally! is what you’ll say and you’d be right! But you know how
it always is with these endless excuses for not writing, there’s no time during the day and at night you’re too tired … We’re well, everyone is healthy. Anne is going to school half days, which she loves, the nervous little thing needs a lot of quiet time. Margot has gotten big and sturdy and loves school and studying. She went to Aachen on Wednesday, and since Otto and Anne have been in Basel for a week, I have some peace and quiet (so I can write this letter!). Otto is coming back tomorrow morning, he’s been mostly on the road since September and is working hard on the thing with England: whether that will work out is unclear, but unfortunately the business here is not doing well and we have to get something extra, maybe we will move on too … We see friends very little, since I hardly ever go out alone and Otto is always too tired. The new orders that Jews can neither travel to——nor visit from abroad have affected me very much. and I’m worried about my family … I think that all German Jews are scouring the globe now and can’t find a way in anymore.
It is not clear how this letter ended up with the family correspondence, likewise the following letter that Otto wrote to Edith on May 12, 1939, their fourteenth anniversary and his fiftieth birthday, which gives us a glimpse into their marriage. Otto presumably brought it with him when he moved into the Herbstgasse house after the war.
Margot and Anne Frank with Grandma Holländer, circa 1939 (photo credit 5.6)
Dear Edith, You know that I don’t in the least like celebrating and especially not “being celebrated,” but I must admit a 50th birthday is a special occasion, and even more so since it coincides with our anniversary. So we should be especially happy today and celebrate, in the spirit of our “agreement,” not loudly and in a big group but in our own little circle with each other.
We should also be happy that despite being in such a difficult situation for so long, we are all still healthy, none of our close relatives remained back in Germany, and we have everything we need, for now.—Our 14 years of marriage have certainly not lacked for twists of fate, and when you think back on the whole length of time, from San Remo to today, you can truly appreciate the changes that have affected everything. Still, even the most difficult circumstances could never disturb the harmony that exists between us. From the beginning, you showed a strength of character that is rare indeed, a sense of solidarity that has given you the power to carry on through thick and thin.
Aside from temperament, upbringing and one’s parents always play an important role, and we both should be thankful for what our parents have given us.
So it should also be our goal to transmit to our children that same sense of solidarity, feeling of comfort, and sense of mutual responsibility.
No one knows what the future will bring in terms of the outside world, but we know that we can avoid making life worse with squabbles and petty conflicts.
May the coming years of our marriage be just as harmonious as the years so far. I want to thank you, especially today, for all the love & care you have given in these 14 years. If we stick to our tested agreement, nothing can go wrong.
Your O.
Then, on September 1, 1939, World War II began—a great catastrophe that no one could imagine the extent of, neither in Holland nor in Switzerland, two countries that had been neutral and experienced the last great war only from afar. For the time being, the correspondence makes no mention of the war. “The times are difficult,” true, but there is not the slightest suspicion of the disaster that awaited them. For instance, Alice wrote another poem for Stephan, her grandson, on his eighteenth birthday, December 20, 1939:
On the day that you were born
What happiness did my soul adorn!
And I have always given you
A thousand good wishes and blessings too.
The burden, but also all the other
Things it means to be a grandmother:
That it was you, my darling boy,
Who gave me these things was a pure joy.
I don’t feel like I belong
With other old people—I feel young
And want to share your life with you,
Delight in all the things you’ll do,
Grow with you, and every day
Help you as you make your way.
Some of these things have come to be:
We’ve seen the mountains and the sea,
Experienced beauty shoulder to shoulder—
You in your youth and I much older.
What ties us together and joins our fate
Is not just the accident of a date—
Your birthday, which is the same as mine—
It’s that, as you’ve felt so many times,
The love of a grandma, your very own,
Is always with you, wherever you roam.—
The world may often be sorrow and strife,
But carry on and build your life:
Better times are on their way,
Hard work is its own reward today.
And take many wishes, truer than e
ver,
From she who loves you. Yours forever,
I.
Poem by Alice Frank for her grandson Stephan Elias’s birthday,
December 20, 1939 (photo credit 5.7)
Despite the strict neutrality maintained by the Netherlands, the German troops invaded the country in 1940 and occupied it within five days. The royal family and the government went into exile, and the Dutch army capitulated on May 14, 1940.
A strange and moving coincidence of dates makes it worth reproducing a postcard here that Alice received from Luxembourg in May 1940, from her nephew Arnold Frank, a son of Michael’s brother Emile. Buddy still remembers Arnold well: he was crippled, and he visited the family in Basel rather often. Arnold Frank wrote:
Dear Aunt Alice! You are very right indeed when you say that the calm of my humble self is merely external, because in the unconscious we can never really be free from the pressure of events. Certainly our spirits here have been more or less soothed, but a lot of people’s are not yet in order.2 Others have simply packed up and left. Olga is staying in P[aris], of course, since all her furniture keeps her tied down there. […] I’ve had a few lines from Edith, & Otto writes to me too. He says that he thinks we’ll pull through and he feels confident. Now there’s more than enough to worry about in Holland too, but in my opinion the well-armed Swiss have nothing to fear. I’m glad that Stephan is holding up & I hope Erich is doing all right as well. I often think about Leni, who has had to live with these annoyances for 7 years & whose wishes have still not been granted in that matter.3 She’ll get it someday, but probably not for another 2–3 years. If you go to Geneva, dear Aunt Alice, say hello to St[ephan] for me. I feel healthy & and am very comfortable here in Hotel Conti. The weather is nice & it’s lovely in Letzeburg.
Very best wishes & all our love, Yours, Arnold
Arnold wrote this card on May 9, the day before he died—on May 10, the same day that the Germans invaded the Netherlands and Luxembourg.
Even aside from the pathos of this coincidence, his letter shows the general unease and uncertainty that was everywhere in those days. No other correspondence remains between him and Alice, which proves that the cache does not contain all the documents that there were—whether the missing ones were carelessly misplaced or intentionally removed can no longer be determined.
The Germans now occupied the Netherlands and installed Reichskommissar Arthur Seyss-Inquart as head of the civil government. As in all the occupied territories, anti-Jewish regulations were put into effect in the Netherlands as well, beginning with the removal of all Jewish civil servants from office and ending with completely depriving the Jews of their civil rights before the deportations began in 1942. These measures have been described often enough; Anne Frank herself documented many details in her diary. As a result, the discussion here will be limited to the Frank family in particular and say less about the general conditions. We may take as one sign of the family’s unease the fact that the number of letters sent from Amsterdam to Basel rose sharply in these two years. Anne wrote much more frequently. Still, only nine of her letters written between 1940 and their going into hiding have survived, and only two of Margot’s. Anne wrote her letters in Dutch with a German translation supplied by Otto.
In one letter to her “Dear Granny,” Anne wrote:
I’m getting a new dress now, it’s terribly hard to get fabric and you have to use a lot of ration cards for it.
Hanneli is sick, she hasn’t been as good as me in school for a long time, she has fallen behind, and I’m not exactly the best myself. […] Papa has a lot to do at the office, he’s moving soon, it’s too small for him on the Singel so the company is now on Prinsengracht. I go and meet him at the streetcar a lot. It’s really nice to sleep with Papa, but still I’d like it better if I had another reason for sleeping downstairs and the times were back to normal again … My hair has gotten rather long, you probably saw that already on the photos, Papa and Mama want me to cut it, but I’d much rather let it grow.
Anne Frank with her friend Hannah (Hanneli) Goslar, Amsterdam, 1939 (photo credit 5.8)
How is everybody there? I’d love to see Bernd on the ice again, hopefully that will be possible sooner than we all think.
I’m taking French and in that class I am the best, we’re getting grades for it too but only after the Christmas break. There are no Hebrew school classes at the moment, and in the winter I don’t think I’ll be able to go either, because I’d have to come home in the dark and I don’t want to do that and am not allowed to either. I have a little device in my mouth and braces, I have to go to the dentist every week now, then it falls out again the next day, it’s been like that for 8 weeks already, it’s a big nuisance. I have to stop writing now because it’s my bedtime. Lots of love to Uncle Erich, Aunt Lenie, Stephan, Bernd, and Grandma Ida, and lots more kisses to you from your Anne.
In the birthday letter that Margot wrote to Alice in 1940, the only hint of the changed situation came in her comments about school. She wished her dear granny a happy birthday, a very special one since after all you only turn seventy-five once, and then she expressed her wish to be able to see her again on December 20 sometime soon.
Since it’s so dark in the evenings now we almost never go out and I play a lot of cards with Mr. Wronker, our lodger. Anne and I like to go see Goslar’s baby, she already knows how to laugh and she’s sweeter and sweeter every day. Anne is going tomorrow to the skating rink they have in the Apollo Hall now, much closer. Is Bernd still skating a lot or does he have too much work to do?
At our school a couple of the teachers are gone and we don’t have French anymore, also no math teacher. Now our school starts at 9:45 instead of at 8:30 and we have shorter classes too.
On Saturdays I usually go with Mama into the city and now, before Hanukkah, you can always buy something.
So best wishes to you and of course to Stephan too from your
Margot.
In her own birthday letter to Grandma and Stephan, Anne also expressed her hope to celebrate with them in person again soon. Hopefully, this would be the last naarest4 birthday.
This afternoon we had dictation and I made no fewer than 27 mistakes, you all would have laughed if you read it I’m sure, but it’s no wonder, because it was very hard and I’m hardly an ace at dictation.
I’m really looking forward to tomorrow because I’m going to the skating rink (first time this year), and it’s not as far away anymore, it’s in the Apollo Hall. I’m sure Granny knows where that is, I think you had a coffee there once in the cafeteria. And tomorrow afternoon I’m going to an auction with Daddy.
Margot got very good grades and I’m very proud of her, I don’t think that I’ll get all 8s and 9s [roughly B to B plus] later.
Gabrielle Gosslar is a cute baby, Margot and I are sometimes allowed to be there when she’s given a bath.
Margot has put up all the blackout curtains just now, it’s the troubles these days, and I’m awfully angry about it, we don’t have to yet and it’s finally such nice weather outside, now Margot has left the room and I’ve simply taken them all down again. I wish you all the best for this new year. Lots of kisses to everybody, but especially
to Granny.
Yours, Anne
Anne wrote her next letter as soon as January 1941, this time addressed “Dear Everyone.” She thanked Bernd for his letter and then took up the topic of ice-skating again.
I’m at the rink every spare minute. Up until now I’ve always had the old skates that Margot used to have. You had to screw them on with a little key, but all my friends on the rink had real ice skates that are attached to the shoes with nails so that they don’t come off.
I wanted skates like that awfully badly and after long and grueling efforts I finally got some. I’m taking skating classes regularly now, where we’re learning how to dance and jump and everything else.
Hanneli has my old skates now and she is happy about it so it worked out well for both of us. Hannel
i’s little sister is terribly cute, I’m allowed to hold her on my lap sometimes, she laughs at everything now, all the children are jealous of Hanneli because of Gabi. How is everyone there? I’ve written all this time about myself and the skating rink, but please don’t take it badly, I’m just very excited about it. I hope that I’ll learn to skate as well as Bernd someday. It’s going well here (I mean at school), I don’t have much free time in the week except for the days when there’s ice outside. I have French on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays and don’t get home until six. Tuesdays and Fridays I have homework too and so there’s only Saturdays and Sundays for ice-skating.
Bernd, maybe we can skate as a pair together someday, but I know I’d have to train very hard to get to be as good as you are.
Love and lots of kisses to everyone
Yours, Anne
Remember that Anne Frank was eleven when she wrote this letter, eleven and a half to be precise. In her next letter, in March, the ice-skating phase was already over: Jews were no longer allowed to play sports in public. Most likely there was a sign hanging on the entrance to the skating rink: “No Jews Allowed!” Like the signs everywhere then: on libraries, theaters, cinemas, cafés, and restaurants. Anne thanked the family for a photograph of Bernd that she thought was very funny, because all the spectators were laughing, and she said that she had hung it over her bed. “I would really love to start skating again, but I need to have a little patience until the war is over, if Papa can still afford it, then I’ll get skating lessons again, and if I get good, Papa promised me a trip to Switzerland to see all of you.”
At the end of the letter, she described her “very big” room: “We have a dresser and a washstand, and a closet and Mama’s secretary that we’ve set up as a cute little writing desk, and then there’s Margot’s fold-out bed and another little bedside table, and a couch where I sleep, and a table in the middle with a big armchair, and all my pictures and photos, including the one of Bernd.”
Anne Frank's Family Page 12