On the question of his erasure of Susi's heritage, he defended himself by saying that she and Eunice had been told the facts of their immediate past when they were only eight years old. It was explained to them that they were not the Manns' own children but that they were adopted. They were always encouraged to have their own Bible - both Old Testament and New - and were never pressed to forget their past. It was true, he admitted, that they were not told the full story, and perhaps that was a grave mistake. However, this was never - he stressed the word - with the intention that they should forget their past: it was because he and his wife did not want the twins to be alienated, hurt by other children or teachers. There was no other reason, he insisted. And as for being Susi's persecutor - and thus being bracketed with the Nazis - it was the very last thing he had wanted to do.
In closing the letter the Reverend spoke of his utter humiliation and of being left with no alternative but to cast himself upon his daughter's mercy and that of the God of both Jewry and Christianity.
Finally the tables had turned. The victim, silent for so many years, had spoken out, had struck back. It had taken her so long to find the courage, but now at last a mirror had been held up to the abuser. For Susi the entire episode was extremely liberating. Suddenly the immense power that her father had held over since her childhood, which had controlled, even crippled her life, began to ebb away.
In fact, Susi felt that she was now the all-powerful one. Could she not inflict yet more damage on her erstwhile tormentor, should she so choose? Certainly there were many moments when she was sorely tempted. She could see now that as long as the abuser holds the power in the relationship, however that power is gained and preserved, he or she is free to continue the abuse. It is only when this power is broken by the abused, like an electric current being switched off, that the abuser's grip is loosened and the power transferred to the victim. For Susi, perhaps more important than the power in itself was the feeling of freedom it brought.
And then came the moment for which everyone helping Susi in her search had been waiting. The public records office in Munich had managed to find out what had happened to Rosa. Hard facts at last, a commodity previously in short supply. The discovery had called for the most painstaking research and now one thing was certain: Rosa Bechhòfer had never set foot on English soil. Frau Schmidt, who had carried out the investigation, was now able to report on precisely what had become of Susi's mother. It was her access to Gestapo records which had done the trick. However, it was not good news.
Frau Schmidt contacted Sally and informed the BBC team, who were filming in Munich, what she had discovered before she told Susi. 'I set Susi up,' Sally now admits.
Although I had heard of Rosa's fate, I simply told Susi that this person 'might be able to tell you something about your mother'. I felt that the film needed to show that Susi really cared. Once again I was rather torn professionally speaking whether or not to include what I knew was going to be a most emotional moment: of Susi finding out about her mother. But what I did not want was to have been faced with filming Susi having revised the emotional process. I wanted raw emotion.
Sally was not disappointed. As Susi's diary records:
There seemed to be an air of mystery surrounding what was to take place that day. I walked into a fairly clinical setting of bookshelves and office material. Frau Schmidt was seated alongside me and I had no idea what she was to reveal. First a picture of the orphanage. I scanned my mind for memories. My mind began to whirl. I thought that all these records had been 'destroyed'. I've lived with this thought all my life and here is my name - with Lotte's clearly written too. I gulp the tears and realize how close I was to Nazi persecution. But here I am instead on this special journey. My hand shakes, lips quiver and I think I will have to leave. Then, in front of me, is a document relating to my father in which the phrases 'ill-health' and 'scratches under the arm' are mentioned. And Rosa has chosen not to disclose her twins. Such pain floods us both. Her denial. I quickly decide she had to do this for our safety. Then I look at the photograph and know I am going to explode. No I can't. Cameras. Sit tight. Clench your fist. Stifle the sob. Feel the pain to the pit of your stomach. Then I say, this is why I am here - to find you. Here you are. But I cannot bear to look at the sadness in your face.
Frau Schmidt continued her explanation, her tone businesslike and matter-of-fact. It was clear from her professionalism that she had carried out this role before. She revealed that Rosa's last position as a domestic servant was with the Bachers at their home in Munich's Leopoldstrasse. She was in their employ for some six and a half months, after which she was arrested and taken to a concentration camp for Jews. She spent five months in one camp within the city - originally it had been a monastery, but the Nazis had adapted it for their purposes - before being moved to another at 148 Knorrstrasse.
And then they came to the nub of it all. Frau Schmidt had also found Rosa's name on a list of 343 Jews destined for deportation to Piaski in Poland on 3 April 1942. Not one of these people - man, woman or child - had survived.
'I think she was the victim of a mass shooting,' Frau Schmidt said quietly. 'And I think that was the end of Rosa Bechhöfer.'
On hearing this, Susi recalls:
I began to shake and sob. I had a picture of this person fleeing for protection, to be finally caught and my worst fear was realized. Then a voice at my shoulder said: 'You knew that this was what you might find.' But there can now be nothing worse than this. This is the worst moment of my life. All these thoughts whizz by in my mind. It is worse than a horror movie. I long to escape. I want to scream and scream... I rush out. But there is nowhere to go. Sally follows. I sense her concern. I screech out: 'Oh God, and he destroyed Rosa's trust.' Once again EJM's shadow was there.
The following morning Susi realized that she might be able to effect her escape after all, if somewhat belatedly. Overwhelmed by her experience of the previous day, she set off in search of a travel agency in the centre of Munich to book an earlier flight home. She longed for the stability, the everyday ordinariness and familiarity of her home town.
Over the past twenty-four hours Susi had undergone an extraordinary experience. Having spent half a century knowing nothing at all about her mother, she had found Rosa, only to lose her again just as suddenly. But at least now the process of mourning could begin, she consoled herself. All along Susi's mission had been to know. And now she knew. She knew too that such knowledge brought but one thing -immense pain.
Shortly after New Year 1991 the documentary 'Whatever Happened to Susi?' was broadcast on BBC2. The 'raw emotion' Sally had wanted was in ample supply, and undoubtedly accounted for the programme's enthusiastic reception. But not every letter was complimentary. Although the names of the Reverend and his wife had been changed in the documentary to Hopkins, this had not prevented the elderly couple from being identified with great ease as Edward and Irene Mann. And not just in the United Kingdom, where the programme was first shown, but later in a number of other countries. This was hardly surprising, for the couple's faces could be seen in close-up several times in the film.
Many eloquent words were written in defence of the Manns, a common objection being that they had been maligned, and that in particular the Reverend was a highly respected member of the Baptist Church and, although a fundamentalist, was by no means the 'hellfire and damnation' preacher he had been portrayed as. It was also stated with conviction that he and his wife had always placed the children's interests before other considerations, and that the overprotectiveness of which they had been accused was in fact genuine care.
For such support the Manns showed not the least sign of gratitude, although perhaps encouraged by it, they went on the attack, anxious to present themselves as the aggrieved party, the innocent and unwitting victims of abuse at the hands of the media. Irene Mann explains:
When we saw the film we just felt as if somebody was walking over us. There wasn't a single word of appreciation that the twins had b
een rescued. We were upset about this, because we had made Eunice and Grace our lives. Then we thought that other people have suffered and that we too must be prepared to face this. But I must say that I was very interested to see all the people Grace had met, and of how she had managed to go about doing this. My husband's reaction was one of despair. He just became silent. And for us both, there was nothing we could do or say about it. It was a fait accompli. We just felt at the mercy of the film. We threw ourselves upon the mercy of the public. But we shall never be able to get over the hurt of having been kept in the dark over the whole affair.
It was after Susi's meeting with Frau Schmidt and the completion of filming in Munich that a new twist in Rosa's story emerged. Susi would have been happy to accept the researcher's version of events and let the matter rest there, had she not seen one particular letter.
Aunt Martha, Rosa's elder sister, who had managed to emigrate to America before the war, had already revealed that she had an important document in her possession. It was a letter written in 1946 by one Maria Forster, with whom Rosa had worked in domestic service. Fearful that she might be arrested at any time, Rosa had asked her colleague to contact the New York Bechhofers on her behalf should that fateful day arrive, and entrusted her with various documents. Maria had given Rosa her word that she would do so at the first opportunity, and this she did.
20.6.46
Dear Sir/Madam
Since it is possible to write with America, I will fill a commission of your sister Rosei Bechhöfer to inform you that she was a cook by Miss Heines, Bauerstrasse 22, where I came as a domestic servant. After more processions she came into a concentration camp. Then she became ill - breast operation -and must go away 1943 with a transport, unknown where. I never heard from her anything more. It was very painful for Rosei. I enclose this birth certificate she gave me to keep it. So take this information to further use. I am able to give you more information in case you need them.
Respectfully
Maria Forster
No reply came from New York. Evidently a black sheep Rosa would remain, even in death. But that unbending attitude was not what most concerned Susi now. The simple fact was that the information given by Maria did not square with that provided by Frau Schmidt.
If Rosa had been shot in 1942, why should Maria state without hesitation that she was sent to a concentration camp the following year? And had not the Central British Fund for World Jewish Relief reported that she had applied to come to England during the spring of 1943? Furthermore, the International Tracing Service had recently uncovered new evidence of Rosa's having worked in a factory during the first part of that same year. While Susi was in no doubt that her mother had died at the hands of the Nazis, she was left with the painful feeling that some crucial information was still lacking. For this reason her file on Rosa, weighty though it was, could not be closed with a clear conscience.
It was fortunate for Susi that Frau Schmidt, herself of Jewish stock, was equally determined to establish the truth. An archivist by training, she too had a horror of loose ends, especially those relating to the Holocaust. After delving once more into Gestapo records she was eventually able to shed new light on the question of Rosa's fate.
Dear Susi
I am writing to tell you that just yesterday I have found a pile of Jewish passports in Nazi police records. Among these was your mother's, Rosa. All the passports in the sack (exactly 50) belonged to people who were deported to Auschwitz on 3 March 1943.
So it seems that Rosa was quite definitely put down for the transport to Piaski in April 1942, as I told you earlier, but got seriously ill with breast cancer and then was sent to hospital, and unfortunately Auschwitz later. The last camp in Munich was still the one in Knorrstrasse. Now the Maria Forster letter makes sense to me.
My best wishes to you
Finally, then, the truth. Rosa Bechhöfer had perished at the most notorious of all the Nazi death camps: Auschwitz. The very name made Susi's blood run cold. Rosa had at last been found. But at Auschwitz, alas.
'I opened this letter,' Susi wrote in her diary, 'and once again I felt my whole inside collapse.'
For here it said that that vile centre of extermination had been my mother's final destination. And yet somehow I had known all along, however much I might have protested to the contrary. But I have this strong image, which I now cannot get out of my head. It is of Rosa walking towards her death. As she is confronted with the gas chambers, with all the people naked and crammed in together, all the time she is thinking to herself - 'I did what I could, I did what I could for my twins.' And that her final prayer would have been for Lotte and me - 'may God save my beautiful daughters.' And to you, my darling mother Rosa, who I was to be with for so very little in this life, I say just one thing: that I have missed you and longed for you all my life. More than you will ever know. May your soul now rest in peace.
As the days went by, Susi thought too of the letters of sympathy, mostly from complete strangers, which had arrived after the showing of her story on television. One that particularly touched her, with its reference to her mother, was from Maureen Goldberg in Leeds:
I am writing to tell you that all my family watched '40 Minutes' last week and we all felt very deeply for you. You have been in my thoughts ever since.
I feel immense sadness for your dearest mother, Rosa. I know that she would have been extremely proud of you.
Shalom
ELEVEN
Susi: A New Identity
For many people their middle years are a period of security and stability; gone are the uncertainty and impetuousness of youth. Not so for Susi Stocken. The dramatic outcome of her search for her identity and her parents' fate has obliged her to grapple with problems of a very fundamental nature.
Alan Stocken, who witnessed each stage of the process, if not every detail, nowadays occasionally makes light of his wife's metamorphosis, teasing people with a riddle. How could he possibly have started out, he asks, by marrying Grace, only to now find himself wed to Susi without there having been a divorce, a formal separation or any indeed any change of partner in between? It is a good line for broaching a difficult subject with new acquaintances. But, although the passage of time has taught Susi to smile along with everyone else, her journey of discovery was no laughing matter. There were many times when she paused to wonder whether she would ever adjust to so much trauma and change. A few years on, however, she has only one regret.
'I just wish that I had initiated everything much earlier,' she admits. 'So in a sense I feel that I have to make up for lost time. The most wonderful thing is for that dark cloud of not knowing to have gone. That was desperately important for me. And Susi is now a person in her own right, which I feel is a basic principle of human survival.'
In fact, attempting to dispense with Grace was the one part of the quest which, far from being painful, was a real pleasure. For Grace had been a thoroughly unhappy person, downcast, isolated and depressed, for very many years. However, while to those around her it might have looked as though Susi had killed off Grace, Susi herself does not see it in that way. To her it feels that she has retained and integrated Grace's capacity for caring, in such a way as to make Susi much stronger, much less of a victim.
Central to changing one's identity is the issue of names. While Susi had no difficulty at all in reclaiming the name given to her by her mother at birth, for those watching her search from the sidelines matters were not quite so clear-cut. 'I find it very difficult to accept that she is now Susi,' admits the Reverend Mann. Sometimes I call her "dear" because I don't quite know what to say. So I no longer call her Grace. But nor do I call her Susi.'
Irene Mann has been equally confused. At the head of her letters she continued to use the name she and her husband had given to Susi, but, instead of closing it with the Manns' customary 'Ma and Pa' she seemed suddenly to lose her resolve, signing off with 'as ever, both of us'. Sometimes the situation was evidently so sensitive that even this comp
romise would not do, with the result that letters to Susi and Alan would open 'Dear Both' and close 'From us both'
At that time it was only first names which were at issue. The effect was nothing like the disruption caused by Susi's decision to jettison her married surname. No longer a Stocken, she henceforth wished to be known as Susi Bechhõfer, the name which appeared on her birth certificate. It was a decision that was frowned upon and even derided by some family members and friends. 'Since making the change back to Bechhöfer,' Susi explains, 'I now feel able to embrace the name which was blotted out so long ago and in so doing more easily accept my German-Jewish heritage. As part of the reintegration of my personality I have had to reclaim Susi Bechhöfer.'
Notifying banks and building societies of a change of name is not a particularly onerous task; nor is changing it officially by deed poll a complex or costly procedure. But could the thoroughly English and Christian persona of Grace Stocken be obliterated with just a few strokes of the pen? In fact, edging towards Judaism seemed to Susi to be a natural step, for she was simply reaffirming the faith she had been forced to abandon nearly fifty years earlier. Yet happy as they were about her decision, it did not prevent members of her newly discovered orthodox Jewish family in New York repeatedly voicing their concern.
'Because we continue to be what we are,' explained Jerry Bechhofer, 'whilst she has to deal with being someone else.' Susi sought to reassure her transatlantic relatives that they should have no worries on her behalf. And for a while she seemed committed to learning about the beliefs and practices of orthodox Judaism. Proud of her rediscovered Jewishness, she found out all she could about the faith into which she had born but which had been denied to her from her infancy. As in other areas of her life, she felt the need to make up for lost time.
Rosa's Child Page 14