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Survivors & Witnesses |
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| Choosing to Remember from the Shoah to the Mountains | ||||
Egon Friedlander and Ilse (wife) (ShP20)
Name: Egon Friedlander Lifespan: Birth- 1921 - Birthplace: Siblings: A sister Children: Grandchildren: |
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[Lauren Wine, grandaughter of Ilsa and Egon Friedlander wrote this account of her grandfather, Egon Friedlander.] ONE MAN'S JOURNEY TO FREEDOMThe Second World War was a time that manifested many false hopes and expectations for Egon Friedlander, my grandfather. When asked about his childhood and the Great Depression he remembers little. However the details of his experiences in World War Two are strikingly clear and recalled with an ease as if they had occurred just months ago. Though he was only seventeen years old in 1938, the life that he knew would never be the same - simply because he was Jewish. In 1937, Egon Friedlander led the normal life of a teenager living in Vienna. Every morning he ate breakfast with his family and then left for work at eight. My grandfather worked in a department store, where his job was to restock his specific department, which sold shirts, under garments, and linen. Here he worked until noon and then returned home for lunch during his two-hour break. He recalls that these long midday breaks were wonderful, as he was able to spend time with his family over warm meals. After this break he returned to the store and instead of restocking, as was his morning job, he waited on customers and helped his clients until six in the evening. After work he would return home for dinner and then spend the remainder of the evening "hanging out on the corner with the boys." Twice each week he would attend trade school after his lunch break rather than returning to work. The trade school was a three-year program. After the three years the students became employed full time at their daily workplaces. My grandfather never had the opportunity to become a full-time employee. Before Hitler invaded Austria, my grandfather recalls that there was little talk or concern about him. My grandfather explained that he and his family were aware of Hitler's existence as an irrational dictator and occasionally heard horrible stories of occurrences in Germany. He was aware that Hitler was making life in Germany more difficult for Jews, but as a teenager, he was uninterested in world affairs. He and his family never believed that anything would happen to Austria since it was an independent country and thus made no preparations to leave or seek security elsewhere. In March of 1938, with Hitler's Anschlus, the annexation of Austria, the Jewish community began to feel the Nazi's presence in their lives. The first time my grandfather was directly affected by the Nuremberg Laws was when he was discharged from his program and job with the department store. Next, the delicatessen that his father owned was restricted to only Jewish clientele and then in late 1938 was taken over by Nazis. In response to these changes and restrictions in their lives, Jews throughout Vienna began to make preparations to leave; yet they did not know where to go. Since the demand for passports rapidly increased, the passport agencies were unable to accommodate everyone. My grandfather recalls going with his sister to the agency at midnight and waiting there until the office opened the next morning. They were successful in obtaining passports and other necessary papers, yet were still faced with the question of where to go. A friend of my grandfather received an affidavit, allowing him to immigrate to the United States and promised to send one to Egon when he arrived in America. Rather than just waiting to receive the affidavit, my grandfather registered, in July, at the American embassy to immigrate to America and was assigned a number. July was, however, too late because hundreds of people had registered before him. He was forced to stay in Austria until the Crystal Night, November 1938. On Crystal Night the Nazis burnt many synagogues, destroyed stores and individual homes, and arrested thousands of Jewish men. On this day my grandfather was helping out his girlfriend's father at the store he owned. On his way over to the store he was warned that something dangerous was going on but he did not see any signs of danger and therefore continued on. Soon after his arrival at the store, his girlfriend and her parents, who were aware of the arrests, came to close it and roll down the gates in front of it for protection. There they were able to make phone calls and found out that the Nazis were searching for Jewish men to arrest and thus they realized the seriousness of the situation. They remained in the store all night and had a maid secretly deliver food to them. The following morning they found out that the collection process had stopped because the Nazis had not yet transported the men to the concentration camps and therefore the storage places, typically schools were filled. The morning after Crystal Night, Egon returned home to find that his father and younger brother were safe. His father had hidden in the refrigerator of his delicatessen and his brother hid in a neighbor's attic. Unfortunately, not all of the neighborhood men had been this lucky. As my grandfather approached his home, he saw many people grieving in the streets over the arrests of husbands, sons, fathers and friends. That morning he came to the painful conclusion that there was no hope left for the Jews in Austria, that no other countries would intervene, and that he must leave immediately. Later that afternoon he was visiting his best friend's girlfriend, when her father received a letter from the Gestapo requiring that he report to their offices on a specific date. There were stories of men who had left for these "special" meetings and never returned. Thus her father, Mr. Schonthal, decided to leave Austria at once and unexpectedly asked the seventeen year old Egon to join him. Recognizing the opportunity, my grandfather ran home to receive his parent's permission, to pack a suitcase, and say quick good-byes. A short time later, he met Mr. Schonthal at the train station, where they bought their tickets without trouble and boarded their train. Once they were in their compartment, my grandfather had time to reflect back on his hasty decision to leave behind his family and was flooded with emotions. He left the compartment and cried himself to sleep in the hallway. The following morning, they went to the dining cart for breakfast, since they had forgotten their prepared food at home, and began a conversation with the waiter. From this conversation they learned that the final destination of the train was Rotterdam, Holland and conveyed to the waiter that they were Jewish and would need help getting there safely. The waiter understood that his assistance would be rewarded and hesitantly agreed. Therefore the second obstacle of avoiding Holland's border police, since they did not have the correct papers to enter Holland, was solved. The first obstacle, however, remained. When the German border police boarded the train to look at the passengers' papers, Mr. Schonthal lied to them and explained that their visas to enter Holland were waiting for them with the Dutch border patrol. The Germans allowed them to continue on with a warning that if they truly did not have the visas they would not be allowed in Holland and would be sent to concentration camps. Thus the first obstacle was overcome. Next when they entered the stretch of neutral territory between Germany and Holland, known as "No Man's Land," they left their belongings behind and returned to the dining cart. The wait staff put the older man and the teenager under a table covered by tablecloths. They were pressed up against the heating pipes for the duration of the Dutch border patrol. During border checks nobody was to be in the dining carts and therefore the police only briefly passed by, yet my grandfather recalls trembling as he watched their black boots march by him. Upon reaching Holland's territory the border police left, they climbed out from beneath the tables, and the train continued on to Rotterdam. When they returned to their compartment their luggage had been taken by the border police since it was apparently unclaimed and there was a woman in their compartment. They spoke only German and, fortunately, she spoke both German and Dutch. Thus, she was able to communicate with the conductor when he came to collect tickets for Rotterdam. The lady created a story for my grandfather and Mr. Schonthal as to why they did not have tickets and convinced the conductor to sell them the proper tickets. When they arrived at the Rotterdam station they looked as though they were there to greet a traveler rather than a visitor or immigrant since they had no luggage. This was very lucky and they were able to continue through without showing papers or passports to any of the guards. At once they began to seek smugglers to get them into Belgium. Belgium had a policy that allowed people, if they managed to illegally enter, to stay in Belgium until they were able to establish a legal existence in another country. While walking around the streets of Rotterdam, they saw a sign in a window of a restaurant that was written in Hebrew and assumed that the owners were Jewish and could help. At once the owners of the restaurant knew that Mr. Schonthal and my grandfather needed assistance and were willing to help as much as possible. The owners advised the Austrian men to sit down and act as if they were customers. The owners informed them that they could not stay in Holland because throughout the day Gestapo performed random paper checks and if they did not have the correct papers they were to be sent to concentration camps. The owners provided food and places for the two gentlemen to stay in overnight. The following morning my grandfather was put on a bus to Belgium with another person's papers and passport and equipped with cigarettes and newspapers from Holland to help him blend with the regular commuters. Obtaining only one set of papers and passports, Mr. Schonthal was forced to follow a smuggler through the woods and hope for reuniting with my grandfather in Belgium. My grandfather was hopeful that both plans to cross the Belgian border would be successful. At the bus station in Antwerp the two men were reunited and overwhelmed with pure joy, and thus they began a new secure life in Belgium. There was a committee in Belgium, sponsored by American Jews, that provided refugees with a hotel room for their first night, helped them find a safe country they could enter legally, and gave them a monthly allowance during their stay in Belgium. The next day Mr. Schonthal and my grandfather separated but continued to keep in touch. Unable to speak the language and with very little money, my grandfather set out to locate a friend that was living in Belgium and find a room to rent; both attempts were unsuccessful. While searching for a room to rent, my grandfather met a woman who offered to have him stay with her until he found both his friend and a room. The woman was extremely warm and kind towards Egon and provided him with new clothes and toiletries. Eventually he found his friend and a room. He remained in Belgium for nine months, until the affidavit his friend sent him from America reached the Austrian embassy and was then transferred to the Belgian embassy. During his many months waiting he was able to communicate with his family through weekly letters. However, they were never able to fully convey to each other their true feelings or conditions since mail was censored by German authorities. Their letters spoke of health or finances. Egon never wrote of the obstacles he confronted and they never wrote of the daily difficulties and hopelessness they were faced with. My grandfather had a future; they did not even have the hope of a future. My grandfather spent his days meandering through parks or conversing with other refugees at coffeehouses. They spoke of their experiences, their expectations for the future, or their anxieties about losing family and friends. During his wait, he was able to reflect on all that had taken place. Throughout his journey to Belgium, he recalls being in a daze, that he was following the lead of others. He had complete faith and trust in the people helping him and had no time to analyze decisions but had to act immediately. My grandfather remembers that there was a sense of adventure that was somewhat appealing, despite his great fears. In July of 1939, my grandfather was informed that the Belgian embassy had received the affidavit and was therefore able to leave for America. The committee that helped him when he first arrived paid for his boat ticket from Antwerp to New York. Upon arrival in America, my grandfather continued on to South Carolina, where the friend who sponsored the affidavit lived. In South Carolina he worked as a manual laborer since he did not speak English. He remained with his friend for almost four years. My grandfather was then drafted into the army and returned to Europe. He recalls that life in the army was rough and wearing. The day the war ended my grandfather was investigating a camp with Russian prisoners of war and was elated that it was all over. My grandfather remained in Europe in hopes of locating his family. He had dreamed of reuniting with his parents but instead learned of his parents' murders in the concentration camps. His dream was now impossible. Throughout the war, my grandfather thrived with an optimism that kept him fighting from one obstacle to the next. However, his optimism was shattered when he learned of his family's suffering. He was also disappointed upon learning that Roosevelt, one of the leaders he had so admired, had the opportunity to help the European Jews but shied away from taking action. When asked what he would have done differently, he replied that he would have made a stronger effort to encourage the rest of his family to leave with him. My grandfather believes that a "sort of luck guided him through his distorted adventure story." Lauren Wine's high school assignment written in late 1990's. |
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