Letters From the Lost

by Helen Waldstein Wilkes

  ————

  DESPITE ALL THAT HAS happened, my grandfather Josef views himself as a lucky man. “One of God’s favourites,” he calls himself in his first post-war letter. He now accepts the fact that his entire family is planning to regroup in Canada. His joy is tempered only by his awareness of what is happening to the Jews in Europe.

  Budweis, Sept. 26, 1939

  With today’s letter we come to inquire about your well-being. We are in good health and hope the same is true of you all. Your last letter gave us great pleasure, as did the photos that we received this week. We are really impressed and everyone looks great, especially dear little Helly.

  Still, when I look at you, dear Edi, my heart aches. How many rays of sun must burn down before a face becomes so blackened? But still, take a look at your magnificent achievements of the last few months. We are proud of what you own and of what you have accomplished.

  I showed the pictures at F. P. today and everyone was full of enthusiasm. Mrs P. would gladly trade her whole house for what you have. Despite all your hard work, people here envy you. Here, there are young, strong Jews wandering about, unemployed. They would gladly work in return for a meal. Young Rosenberg goes to the brickyard every day to earn a handful of change for a whole week’s work.

  And now, dear Edi, for your birthday I wish you all the best, especially an iron constitution, and may all your wishes come true. I hope that with the hard work and the energy that you are expending, you will advance further than here in Strobnitz.

  I like to imagine that I am one of God’s favourites, and I pray that you will soon be well established. As soon as the Fränkels leave for Canada, half of us will be across the ocean.

  It will be easier for Arnold and Vera. Be glad, dear Edi, that you have gotten so far ahead. When I look at your friends here, my heart aches. Everybody wants to emigrate, but nobody can. Nothing but problems.

  I close for today, wishing you all the best again, my dear Edi. Regards to Gretl, Anny, Ludwig, and to my dear Helly-child. In my imagination, I still see her playing about in the garden in Strobnitz.

  Your faithful Papa.

  ————

  AS FALL TURNS TO WINTER, Fanny worries about her adult children. Has Otto thought to pack warm underwear? She assures her son that she and his father will survive the winter by keeping their heads down and not drawing attention to themselves.

  I am able to decline with thanks your question about whether we need anything for the household. We get everything that we need here using ration cards, and you can otherwise be assured that we don’t lack anything. If we can receive good news from you children abroad, that is our joy.

  My grandfather Josef’s letter to Otto is brief but melancholy. His loved ones are scattered in all directions and there is little to break the monotony of his days.

  We were very pleased when we got your last letter. You are always the old Otto, always in a good mood, even in these hard times.

  Thank God, we are all in good health, we have enough to eat and we are satisfied. If only God would grant us the good fortune to all be together again as a family. Sadly, you are now scattered about in all directions. This is not something we ever thought would happen.

  I don’t know anything special for today. We had two letters from Edi via Prague. It is a delight to read these. He really hit the jackpot.

  ————

  IN NOVEMBER, BOTH Fanny and Josef write again. Visitors from Strobnitz have brought the village news, mostly about young people who have left or married or joined the army. These visitors have also brought the name of the villager who “took” the store. Like any legitimate owner, he is now pocketing the profits.

  Fanny’s letter is her trademark blend of pertinent questions and worried motherly advice. Because our sows have failed to produce enough piglets, Fanny suggests that we not feed the brood sow so well, and that we give her “more slimey food, not too rich” so that she will produce more piglets. She advises us to plant “noble” trees in the orchard, like those bearing the winter apples that are shipped to Europe. Although she admits that plucking and gutting chickens is not a pleasant task, she suggests that it is easier in the long run and more profitable than transporting live chickens to market. In large measure, our life has become her life.

  Believe me, dear children, I am running a farm in my thoughts and would dearly like to help you with yours.

  Fanny seems obsessed by the issue of gathering fuel from the woods, and a variation of the same paragraph appears twice in her letter.

  How are things with the fuel? Do your woods produce wood for burning? I beg you to be very careful, especially in chopping. You will remember well, dear Edi, the scare we had earlier.

  My grandfather is less garrulous but clearly lonely for his family. He rues a way of life that now seems like a fairy tale. “Someday, we will tell you everything, ” he promises my parents:

  If at all possible, write us a letter again. A letter from you is a day of celebration for us. We do not hear much from Strobnitz. That was once upon a time.

  A thousand kisses to my dear Helly-child.

  Your faithful Papa.

  Before forwarding the letter, Arnold and Vera add a few lines in the margins to reassure my parents that all is well.

  We received your letter of October 9 addressed to Gretl’s parents. We ourselves have been without direct news from you for months. We are all doing well, and so far, everything is as it was. Do not worry. We are working and we have enough to eat.

  ————

  MARTHA FRäNKEL’S first letter after the outbreak of war contrasts sharply with the comforting words penned by Arnold and by my grandparents. My father’s sister indicates that the Fränkels are coping but, as predicted, the fall has not been pretty. Clearly, she is speaking of more than the colour of the autumn leaves.

  Prague, Oct. 17, 1939

  My dear ones,

  How precious your recent lines addressed to Gretl’s parents were for us! You can well imagine how happy we were to know that, thank God, you are all well. To be without news from you casts a shadow over our mood, especially since our thoughts always dwell with you.

  In one of my last letters I wrote to you that the fall here was not going to be pretty, and it has not been. How nice it would have been if we had been with you in time for your harvest! But just as with Gretl’s parents Max and Resl, everything is a matter of fate, and we are all in God’s hands.

  Your progress in the running the farm brings us great pleasure, and in our mind, we form nice pictures of everything. Dear Anny, I admire your business acumen. You are a woman of the times, and may Ludwig and everyone be happy with your ideas.

  You, dear Gretelein, are probably already mistress within your sphere of expertise. With united strengths, you will soon create a nice agricultural enterprise. I keep seeing all of you in my mind. My dear little brother, how I’d love to give a few good kisses to you and to sweet Helly-child who is probably a very good little girl.

  Sunday Max and Resl were here. I like them. They look well, thank God, but of course they would like most of all to be with you.

  As Elsa has written, our little Dorly is walking already. She still wobbles a bit, but she is really cute in her ways. Ilserl can already speak Czech with her friends and Trude’s cousin is giving her English lessons free of charge. Unfortunately, the school here in the district of Straschnitz where we are staying is unhealthy and primitive.

  Emil has been working hard as an apprentice shoemaker and he’s up to nine soles redone in a day. As of today he got a small job as cashier at the emigration office of the nzo, the National Zionist Organization. Emil is delighted to have something to do. Besides, if there is no other way, then we will have to go to Palestine illegally if that becomes a possibility When all is said and done, one is only human, and this illness is supposed to last a long time.

  Trude wrote us a moving letter of farewell. She is on her way to N. Y where her sister-in-law has opened
a hat salon. They want to help us, but I can’t imagine how. We were very happy to have news from our brother Otto. I had been thinking of him all the time. Alone in a foreign country, he must experience events even more sharply. Yesterday we received a little 5 gr. package that he sent. It was touching. For the moment, we have enough to eat. Arnold has also just received a package from Otto. Our own dear parents in Budweis are doing quite well, thank God. Unfortunately they have to cope with all the new conditions, as do we all.

  Now I want to close with the best of wishes. Stay very, very well, all of you!! You are heartily hugged and kissed by your Martha.

  The letter ends with greetings from my cousin llserl whose handwriting has improved greatly despite the lack of formal schooling. I linger longest over her simple words.

  Best regards and kisses from your Ilse

  Over each detail of Martha’s letter, I reflect at length. With his usual foresight, Emil has taken on two jobs. Shoemaking, always a practical skill, was doubly so in 1939, given the reality that “every army marches on its feet.” Emil’s second job, his work at the office of the National Zionist Organization would provide a different advantage. It meant that Emil would be among the first to hear news of any opportunity for reaching Palestine safely.

  Although it is too late for the Fränkels to come to Canada, Ilserl is being tutored in English. To me, it is an indicator that the Fränkels have not completely relinquished their dream of crossing the Atlantic.

  Because Martha’s letter is so filled with news and because Emil seems so enterprising, I am reassured. It is my research into historical events of 1939 that uncovers two deeply disturbing facts. On the Internet, I find the following:

  Middle of September 1939: establishment of jews with polish nationality. By searching houses and flats in Prague, those Jews who formerly had held Polish nationality were found.

  27 September 1939: removal of polish nationals. By Transportation.7

  The words jump from my computer screen. Removal. Transportation. Former Polish Nationals. Emil was a former Polish National.

  Anxiously, I scan the remaining 1939 letters for further news. How did the Fränkels manage, when other Jews with Polish nationality were being “removed by transportation”? These words were the standard euphemism for “shipped to a concentration camp.”

  Two letters from Else and Emil Urbach provide clues, but no clear answers. In a letter dated October 13,1939, Else directs the focus to family news. She refers to changing conditions almost in passing, as if they do not really apply to the Urbachs. Others may be rushing to emigrate, but she is waiting for the storm to pass, painting a rather tranquil picture of daily life.

  My Dear Ones,

  It was a nice surprise for us all when, after a long pause, we again received a letter from you. We are very glad that you are in good health, and thank God I can report the same of our parents and of everyone here.

  Our Marianne is in a French school now. She is also taking a sewing course so that she will be well prepared to help our brother Otto produce women’s knitwear fashions in Paris. To our delight, we had pleasant news from him several times lately. He has probably also written to you several times.

  Last week we visited Gretl’s parents. They went to the synagogue during all the High Holidays and have adapted well to the circumstances. I can imagine how much you wish you already had them with you. You must not lose courage that it will come to pass, and when it does, your delight will be doubly great.

  Helly will surely already be a big girl and bring lots of life to the house. She could play nicely now with Dorly, who is very cute and is toddling about, babbling continuously in her own language.

  It is only Else’s reference to problems experienced by “our people” in finding accommodation that strikes a jarring note:

  Despite all the sorrows, time flies and before we noticed, the summer had passed. We are now in search of a suitable place to live since we must move within the next three months. Today we found out that there is an apartment in a large house across the street. We looked at it right away. It is quite modern, with central heating and balconies, but it is very expensive. We are to hear in three days whether they will rent it to us. These days, they do not like to rent to so many people and not everywhere to our people, so there is not much choice.

  Strangely, toward the end of the letter, Else’s handwritten words transition in mid-sentence to typed lines offering concrete suggestions that can only be from Emil Urbach.

  I hope that the winter will pass well. It will certainly be quite severe where you are, and I hope that you have enough fuel from your woods and dry plants. Did you ever get the book on raising pigs and cattle? I also wanted to send you a book on gardening, but I was waiting to hear whether you received the other books. Dogs have risen very much in price recently and are used for a variety of purposes: fat, hides, hunting and tracking, guarding property, etc. I suppose you wouldn’t have time to raise bees? Honey would be a good item to sell, especially if you had honey-bearing plants in the fields.

  Emil’s final paragraph strikes a chilling note. Unlike my parents and the rest of the family, he harbours no dreams that “someday” we will all meet again.

  We did not know what to do with your reference to “holding on to the thought of seeing one another again here at home. ” We still do not know how to take this comment. It is our opinion that every single person who is outside of Europe is to be considered fortunate. You are heartily greeted by the whole Urbach family.

  What prompted Emil’s words remains a mystery. The only logical possibility is that my parents had written a letter expressing their own loneliness, and wondering if someday, they would all be re-united back in Strobnitz, the place where they had experienced the simple joys of family and had known happiness.

  Emil pours cold water upon that dream with his blunt reminder that anyone who has managed to leave Europe is indeed fortunate. Remarkably, in his last unsigned letter of 1939, Emil does not mention the Fränkels in the catalogue of family news.

  Dec. 6, 1939

  My dear ones,

  We were very pleased the other day to have seen your lines to our dear parents in Budweis and to the other relatives. From them, we gather that you are doing well and that the state of your cattle and the marketing possibilities for butter have improved.

  At the usual Sunday gatherings, you always occupy an important place on the program. We wrote to you a while ago, but the letter seems to have gotten lost. That is why your remark that you had not heard from us in two months rather surprised us.

  One of us regularly visits your dear parents, Max and Resl Grünhut. They live quietly and modestly, lacking for nothing aside from their wish to leave, which unfortunately is still rather difficult. Your dear mother is in good health, gets distracted by your dear father from the everyday routine through visits, board games, etc. They often go for walks or visit relatives and acquaintances. They also go to the synagogue assiduously. Thus, they pass the time that they would like so much to be spending with you. Our dear parents in Budweis are living in a similar way

  As of January, we will be living near Arnold. Else will be able to enjoy the city more, since she has been spending lots of time now on the acquisition of food because of the considerable distance from the stores. The children are still attending school. Marianne is learning French, and our Otto is completing the last year of Gymnasium. Time will teach us what they should do a year from now.

  We get comforting reports from your brother Otto from time to time. Let us hope that they correspond to reality and that it will remain thus.

  Many people from here are immigrating to Palestine now. Manni and his wife have already landed there. We do not lack food. Everything is very purposefully regulated, well organized.

  Edi, did you ever receive the books? The one on raising cattle too? I still have a book on horticulture and a flyer and a chart on combating the Colorado beetle, but do not know if these would reach you. I will leave it
for later times. With best regards

  The Family Copes

  THE YEAR 1940 BEGINS WITH A LETTER from my Grandmother Fanny, who hungers for news about us and the farm.

  I want to end the old year and start the new by writing to you, my dear children. My thoughts dwell constantly upon you and I cannot hide from you how lonely we are for you. We received a copy of the letter that you, dear Anny and Gretl, wrote to your parents, but we were doubly pleased with the letter you addressed directly to us, especially since it was quite detailed. We long to know everything about your new life.

  Still, one cannot change things. You are fortunate that work is all you have to worry about and that you are adapting so well. Especially you, dear Gretl and Anny. Who would have believed you’d have the strength for hard labour? I beg you to eat heartily, for that makes quite a difference.

  We’ve had severe frost for several days now, which again makes me think of you often in regards to having to get up early. But it has to be done, doesn’t it, my dear Edmund. You’ve no other choice. If you don’t do it, the animals will do you in.

  Fanny shows our photos at every opportunity, including to the visitors from back home in Strobnitz.

  I’ve been asked to send best regards from Mr. and Mrs. Chief Postmaster and from Mrs. Head Watchman who visited us from Strobnitz. They were delighted with your pictures. “O Boze! Helenka!” they exclaimed.

  The Czech words bring me a smile. Although Ludwig and his cousins were fluent speakers of Czech, the language was spoken only occasionally by visitors to our house. My mother revered Goethe and Schiller and the greats of German culture. For her, Czech was a lesser tongue. During the first year of her marriage, my mother had been the belle of the annual Fireman’s Ball in Strobnitz. Fanny warned her to learn Czech if she wanted to retain that position. With faith that her beauty would carry the day, my mother had refused to stoop so low. Sadly, the issue was never put to the test. The next year, my mother was pregnant. The following year, as Jews, my parents were no longer welcome at the village ball.