71. Andy Marino, ‘You couldn’t make it up’ in Telegraph Magazine, November 1999, pp. 28, 30, 31.
72. Letter from Lord Salisbury to April Fawcett, dated 21 May 2008.
73. Obituary in the Telegraph, February 2008.
74. Letter from Tony Blair to April Fawcett, 2008.
75. Agnes Hirschi (Carl Lutz’s stepdaughter), notes of author’s meeting in London, 14 April 2002.
76. Theo Tschuy, Dangerous Diplomacy: the Story of Carl Lutz, Rescuer of 62,000 Hungarian Jews (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), p. 27.
77. Ibid., p. 29.
78. Ibid., p. 33.
79. Ibid., p. 34.
80. Yehuda Bauer, Jews for Sale? Nazi-Jewish Negotiations, 1939–1945 (Yale: Yale University Press, 1994), p. 162.
81. Ibid., p. 158.
82. Obituary of Professor Tibor Barna (1919–2009), economist, The Times, 12 August 2009. I recall my mother telling me that many young men she knew could not get into Hungarian universities and went to Germany instead.
83. Tschuy, Dangerous Diplomacy, pp. 116–7.
84. Ibid., p. 117.
85. Bernard Wasserstein, Britain and the Jews of Europe 1939–1945 (London: JPR, 1999), p. 271.
86. Ian Kershaw, Popular Opinion and Political Dissent in the Third Reich: Bavaria 1933–1945 (Oxford: OUP, 1988), pp. 158–9.
87. Bauer, Jews for Sale? pp. 181–2.
88. Tschuy, Dangerous Diplomacy, p. 107.
89. Agnes Hirschi, e-mail to author, 30 October 2002.
90. Charles R. Lutz, ‘The Rescue Work of a Swiss in World War II’ in Neue Zuercher Zeitung (NZZ), No 2464, 30 June 1961, pp. 5–8.
91. Bauer, Jews for Sale? p. 235.
92. Lutz in NZZ, p. 8.
93. Agnes Hirschi, e-mail to author, 15 March 2001.
94. Ruth Rothenberg, ‘Belated honour for Swiss diplomat who saved Jews’ in Jewish Chronicle, 7 April 2000.
95. Alfred Werner, ‘A Saintly German Pastor’ in Congress Weekly (published by Zionist Congress in USA), 27 October 1952, Vol. 19, No 26, pp. 5–7.
96. Schmitt, Quakers and Nazis, p. 41.
97. Ibid., p. 41.
98. Christine King, ‘Jehovah’s Witnesses During the Holocaust’ in Perspectives: Journal of the Holocaust Centre, Beth Shalom, Autumn 2002, pp. 36–7.
99. Ibid., p. 37.
100. Cited in Schmitt, Quakers and Nazis, pp. 41–2.
101. Reginald Pringle, ‘Paul Rosenzweig’, unpublished memoir written in 1990. Forwarded to the author by Pringle’s brother-in-law Ron Mower, p. 1.
102. Ron Mower, letter to author, received 7 August 2000.
103. Pringle, ‘Paul Rosenzweig’, p. 18.
104. Ibid., p. 20.
105. Mower, letter to author, 7 August 2000.
106. Pringle, ‘Paul Rosenzweig’, p. 39.
107. Ibid., p. 41.
108. Ibid., p. 42.
109. Ibid., p. 43.
110. Ibid., p. 44.
111. Ibid., p. 45.
112. A Mezuzah is a sign of a Jewish home and a sign of God’s presence and the sanctification of the dwelling place. It is a small case which contains a piece of parchment on which specific prayers have been written. Fixing a Mezuzah is a Biblical law from Deuteronomy 6:9: ‘And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates.’
113. ‘In dark days a brave friend to the Jews’ in Rheim-Neckar Heiliggeist Newsletter, 8 November 1995.
114. Richard Gutteridge, Open the Mouth for the Dumb!: The German Evangelical Church and the Jews 1879–1950 (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1976), pp. 214–5.
115. Kenneth Slack, George Bell (London: SCM Press Ltd, 1971), p. 56.
116. Ibid., pp. 58–9.
117. Ronald C.D. Jasper, George Bell: Bishop of Chichester (London: OUP, 1967), p. 141.
118. Bailey, A Quaker Couple in Nazi Germany, p. 82.
119. Schmitt, Quakers and Nazis, p. 182.
120. H.D. Leuner, When Compassion was a Crime: Germany’s Silent Heroes 1933–1945 (London: Oswald Wolff, 1966), p. 114.
121. Werner, ‘A Saintly German Pastor’, p. 7.
122. William W. Simpson and Ruth Wehl, The Story of the International Council of Christians and Jews (London: CCJ, 1988), p. 23.
123. Ibid., p. 21.
124. Hermann Maas, translation of a letter to Martha dated 14 August 1947, copied to author by Ron Mower.
125. Rheim-Neckar Newsletter.
126. Quoted by her husband, Ron Mower, in a telephone conversation with the author, 19 December 2002.
127. Rheim-Neckar Newsletter.
128. Monica Porter, Deadly Carousel: A Singer’s Story of the Second World War (London: Quartet, 1990), p. 8.
129. Ibid., pp. 10–2.
130. Ibid., p. 16.
131. Ibid.
132. Ibid., p. 17.
133. Vali Rácz, obituary in The Daily Telegraph, 27 February 1997.
134. Porter, Deadly Carousel, pp. 19–20.
135. Ibid., p. 25.
136. Ibid., p. 27.
137. Ibid., p. 28.
138. Ibid., pp. 29, 142.
139. Monica Porter, e-mail to author, 30 October 2002.
140. Porter, Deadly Carousel, p. 10.
141. Monica Porter, e-mail to author, 15 November 2002.
142. Porter, Deadly Carousel, p. 185.
143. Vali Rácz, obituary in The Daily Telegraph, 27 February 1997.
144. ‘Parents and Heroes’, Home Truths on BBC Radio 4, September 2002, www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/hometruths/0240heros.shtml, accessed 28 December 2009.
145. Monica Porter, e-mail to author, 22 December 2009.
146. Jane Marks, The Hidden Children: the Secret Survivors of the Holocaust (Bantam: London, 1997), p. 251.
147. Tom Tugend, ‘French village honours “hidden child” survivor of Holocaust’ in Jewish Chronicle, 24 November 2000.
148. Marks, The Hidden Children, p. 252.
149. Ibid., pp. 252–3.
150. Josie Martin, e-mail to author, 11 March 2001.
151. Janine Morant-Mestradie, privately produced memoir of the Institution Saint-André in Angoulême, dated June 2001, pp. 5–7. Translated from the French by Prof. Hamish Ritchie.
152. Tom Tugend, Jewish Chronicle article, 24 November 2000.
153. Josie Martin, e-mail to author, 11 March 2001.
154. Marks, The Hidden Children, p. 258.
155. Josie Levy Martin, Never Tell your Name (1st Books Library, 2002), p. 197.
156. Bernadette Landréa, letter to author, 18 November 2003. Bernadette has translated Josie Martin’s book into French, Ne Dis Jamais Ton Nom.
157. Louis Lacalle, letter to Madame Landréa, 10 December 2003. Madame Landréa translated the author’s letter into French and then Louis’ reply into English. I am deeply indebted to her.
158. Lacalle, letter to Madame Landréa, 10 December 2003.
159. Bernadette Landréa, letter to author, 29 December 2003.
160. Martin, Never Tell your Name, p. iii.
161. Ibid., p. 199.
162. Martin, e-mail to author, 27 November 2009.
163. Martin, e-mail to author, 25 November 2009.
164. John Paul Abranches, letter to author, 12 August 2002, p. 1. He was the ninth son of Aristides, born in 1932 in Belgium. He was international chairman of the committee to commemorate his father, and he worked tirelessly to get his father’s work recognised.
165. Maria Julia Cirurgiao & Michael D. Hull, ‘Aristides de Sousa Mendes (1885–1954)’ in Lay Witness published by Catholics United for Faith (CUF) in October 1998, p. 3.
166. José-Alain Fralon, A Good Man in Evil Times (London: Viking, 2000), p. 46.
167. Abranches, letter to author, 12 August 2002, p. 2.
168. Eric Silver, The Book of the Just: the Silent Heroes who Saved Jews from Hitler (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1992), p. 52.
169. Fralon, A Good Man in Evil Times, p. 57.
170. Ibid., p. 47.
171.
Cirurgiao & Hull, ‘Aristides de Sousa Mendes (1885–1954)’, p. 6.
172. Fralon, A Good Man in Evil Times, p. 48.
173. Cesar Mendes, ‘Memories of Cesar Mendes’, undated memoir from the 1960s, p. 2.
174. Ibid., p. 1.
175. Cirurgiao & Hull, ‘Aristides de Sousa Mendes (1885–1954)’, p. 7.
176. Fralon, A Good Man in Evil Times, p. 60.
177. Ibid., p. 62.
178. Ibid., pp. 73–4.
179. John Paul Abranches, letter to author, 12 August 2002, p. 2.
180. Fralon, A Good Man in Evil Times, p. 118.
181. ‘A Protest’ dated 10 December 1945, sent to the author by JPA, 12 August 2002.
182. John Paul Abranches, letter to author, 15 May 2003.
183. Henrie Zvi Deutsch, ‘The Many Marvelous Mitzvot of Aristides de Souse Mendes’, on the website of the Portuguese Sephardic History Group, www.saudedes.org/500yrs2.htm, accessed 27 December 2002.
184. Ibid.
185. Silver, The Book of the Just, pp. 52–3.
186. Sebastian Mendes, e-mails to the author, 21 December 2009.
187. JPA, 12 August 2002.
188. Miriam Dunner, interview with the author, 18 November 2001, at Miriam’s home.
189. Abraham Dunner, telephone conversation with the author, 20 December 2009.
190. Max Arpel Lezer, ‘Shame on this Dutch Law’ in Mishpocha, Summer 2002, Newsletter of the World Federation of Jewish Child Survivors of the Holocaust, and e-mail to the author, 10 March 2003.
2
RESCUERS WITH HUMANITARIAN MOTIVES
Józef Robert Barczynski (1900–80) rescued 250 Jews in Poland. He was the eldest of seven children, born in Poland into a family of rich landowners on his mother’s side and Polish nobility on his father’s. His father, Józef Kazimierz, was a political activist and a member of the Polish Socialist Party who fought for the independence of Poland from Tsarist Russia. He was first arrested in 1901 and imprisoned for four months. In 1906 he was arrested again and sent to Siberia to do forced labour in a coal mine. He was released after two years but had to stay in Siberia, in a town called Kustanay (now Kazakhstan) beyond the Ural mountains. His wife and family were allowed to join him in 1908 and they were only permitted to return to an independent Poland in 1921.1
Józef’s formative years from 8 to 21 were thus spent in exile, but during his childhood he saw the example of his parents helping those in need. He used to speak of displaced people calling at their home or business asking for help, work or food:
Apparently, frequently, destitute strangers were invited to sit with them for dinner and were treated as equals. (I do not know whether any of these displaced persons were ever of Jewish origins.) My grandfather grew up in a family where Social Democratic political beliefs were adhered to. They believed in the equality of all people. This was a big influence on all the children growing up in the Barczynski home. In addition, from the side of my grandmother, Paulina, there was a strong religious influence. The kinds of principles that the children grew up with were to be found in the Bible. We are to love, not hate. We are to make peace, not war. We are to love our neighbour as ourselves, to care for the oppressed, to extend our hand to the sorrowful. The principles of scriptures as found in Isaiah and Proverbs were not only commended, but Józef would have seen them lived out in his family home.2
This example made him a very caring man and ‘in Siberia he witnessed his parents caring for strangers when they had no obligation to do so’.3 Yet he would not have been described as particularly brave. His niece Olympia has said that in her family it was always said that her uncle would not hurt a fly. In fact, he was quite timid and Olympia recalled that as a child, on seeing a cockerel strutting in the yard, he rushed back into the house, wailing to his mother that the cockerel was staring at him.4
Józef was aware of the impact of the 1917 Russian Revolution on his parents. When the Red Army came to Kustanay his father’s timber businesses were taken from him and he had to work as a night watchman in his own factory. The family lost their home and their servants and had to live like the ordinary workmen. However, Józef’s father had foresight and had converted many of his assets into gold coins which he kept hidden. Although Poland regained its independence in 1918, the family were only permitted to return home in 1921, when Józef’s father had a small fortune with him. He continued his philanthropic work by sponsoring the University of the People, which was the first Polish university open to the ordinary people. Józef Robert, therefore, ‘grew up in a climate where other people less fortunate than themselves were always cared for, and what was owned was for the benefit of others too’.5
His experience working in his father’s timber works in Siberia enabled him to become a director of a timber and forestry scheme when he returned to Poland. In the late 1930s he was employed by a Czech man called Cezar Andrieu to run a factory in Krakow making timber products, minutes from Oskar Schindler’s enamelware factory. Olympia is not aware of how the two men came to work together but presumes it was through business since ‘Schindler produced enamel ware and then ammunition. My uncle’s factory produced the wooden cases in which the ammunition was packed.’6
As a result of his involvement in the ‘war effort’, Barczynski was able to operate relatively freely. He personally rescued four Jewish families from the Krakow Ghetto. He had a truck fitted with a false bottom, which he drove into the Ghetto regularly. Schindler gave him the money with which he bribed the German guards. He was in the Polish Resistance with his brother and was called a ‘White Courier’ (in Polish Biaty Kurier). He took people out of the occupied territory, even as far as the Pyrenees. Apparently, ‘he personally escorted over 250 Jewish people to safety and is credited with saving their lives’.
On one occasion he was arrested and was in a convoy of prisoners being taken to Auschwitz. He managed to escape by asking to go outside to relieve himself. But his brother, Olympia’s other uncle, Wladyslaw, was not so fortunate. It appears that he was arrested in Warsaw, having been betrayed by some children. He spent six weeks in Auschwitz as a political prisoner and was questioned, tortured and shot. His family received a telegram on Christmas Eve 1941 describing his fate. Olympia has written: ‘I remember frequently hearing of the sorrow they all had on that day, as one of his sisters was just laying the table for the Christmas meal.’7
When the Nazis began to persecute the Jews, Józef Barczynski was able to empathise with their plight:
They were displaced people, like his family once were, in a land taken over by the enemy. He could empathise with them as his family too were plunged into the unknown and lost all they had. He would have had a strong sense of injustice, especially as now many of the Jews he knew and worked with were being arrested and losing all they had. Even more so as the Nazis began their campaign of extermination.8
Józef was posthumously recognised as a Righteous Among the Nations as he had refused the honour previously saying that he ‘had only fulfilled his duty toward his fellow human beings’. After his death, his widow gave her permission and he was recognised by Yad Vashem on 7 November 1993. His niece Olympia only heard about it by accident when she visited her aunt in 1998, as his rescue of persecuted Jews had never been mentioned before.
The citation, which stresses that his job enabled him to save victims of persecution, both Poles and Jews, from mortal danger, describes his rescue of one Jewish family. Artur and Lola Frim, and their daughter Bronislawa, originally Przemysl, had moved to Lvov at the outbreak of war. When the Nazis occupied the city, they were interned in the Ghetto:
They remained in the Ghetto, and throughout their stay there, until the autumn of 1942, received help from Józef Barczynski, who had been superficially acquainted with Artur before the war. Prior to the Ghetto’s liquidation, Józef succeeded in smuggling out 7-year-old Bronislawa Frim and placing her with a Polish family, passing her off as a niece of his, whose parents had been exiled from the country. In due course,
Artur and his wife also escaped from the Ghetto, and Barczynski found them employment in a factory and a place to live – all without requesting material recompense. After the couple had settled in the village where they were employed, Barczynski personally brought Bronislawa to join them. The Frims survived and immigrated to Israel after the war.9
Bronislawa continued to correspond with Józef’s widow after the war, as is common between the rescued and their rescuers. Olympia used to visit her uncle’s widow until she died in 2007.10
Achille Belloso Afan and Guilia Afan de Rivera Costaguti. The Costaguti family lived very close to the Ghetto area in Rome. The head of the family was Achille Belloso Afan de Rivera Costaguti and his wife was Guilia Afan de Rivera Costaguti. They had five children. One was Clotilde, who was my main informant, and another was Costanza, who verified the rescuees’ story to Yad Vashem’s investigator in 2002.11
At No 29 Via della Reginella there is a memorial stone high up on the wall commemorating the deportation of Jews from the area on 16 October 1943. At No 27 at that time the Costagutis took in eighteen Jews from four families who were all related by marriage, ‘a deed which, under the Nazi occupation, could have cost them their lives’.12 Apparently the eighteen were well hidden for a couple of months:
In December 1943 fascists forcefully entered the building but luckily no harm was done. Donna Guilia moved her charges, sixteen in all, to the home of one of her servants. However, this hiding place was also discovered by fascists who, through threats of handing her over for deportation, extorted a high sum of 50,000 Liretta from Donna Guilia, who personally objected to the arrest of her charges. Following this incident, they were compelled to abandon this shelter and Donna Guilia arranged for their transfer to various locations under her auspices, where they remained until the liberation of Rome.13
These eighteen Jews all survived the war, although they are all dead now. The rescue seems to have been based partly on the proximity of the Costagutis’ palace to No 27, which was an all-Jewish house in the old Ghetto area. The rescuers’ daughter Costanza, born in 1950, confirmed the rescuee Nicla Fiorentino’s story in her testimony to Yad Vashem:
The Other Schindlers Page 9