From the attic of our house, the flames could be seen against the dark sky, but Mother shielded Miriam and me from such a horrible sight
By FRED GOTTLIEBKristallnacht 88(photo credit: )
Many of the anti-Semitic measures employed by the Nazis were in place, ready to be enacted, well before Hitler actually came into power. During the very early years of the Hitler regime, I was, of course, too young to understand what was transpiring. My mother did write in her diary, in an entry for July 9, 1933: "We have come on evil times. Hitler has come to power. We Jews are suffering very much. Daddy lost all his patient accounts. We hope this will be reversed. The children are not aware of these events, and we are, thank God, happy."
My mother was referring to the boycott of Jewish doctors, lawyers and cattle dealers, which the Nazis had instituted on April 1, 1933. The boycott was terminated several months later, possibly in reaction to protests from the foreign press, or perhaps due to prevailing poor economic circumstances. My father was indeed able to resume his medical practice, which he continued until September 1938.
As I grew older, the manifestations of Nazi power became apparent to me, and I remember them well. I recall the Hitler Youth on the street outside of my window. I remember clearly the parades of the SA (Brown Shirts) as they sang "Wenn das Judenblut vom Messer spritzt ist Alles wieder gut" (When Jewish blood splatters from the knife, all will be well). Everywhere there were signs of "Juden Unerwuenscht" (Jews not wanted).
I recall the Stuermer on display across the street from our house. This weekly paper was the ultimate in vulgar, obscene anti-Semitism. Its editor, Julius Streicher, wanted the paper to appeal to the common worker who had little time to read. Preposterous lies were constantly repeated, with headlines grabbing the readers' attention. Its special qualities included gross caricatures of Jews which the common person could easily understand. The paper's main slogan, "Die Juden sind unser Unglueck" (The Jews are our misfortune), was not a Nazi invention, but rather a pronouncement of a Berlin professor of history, Heinrich von Treitschke, back in the 19th century.
Miriam and I, growing up within the confines of the garden walls, were mostly protected from this evil. The Jewish school was the only one we attended, and the walk there was but two minutes from our house. When the terrible news came that a 17-year-old boy, Herschel Grynszpan, had assassinated a German official in Paris, we sensed Mother's foreboding. She took us into her bed on the evening of Kristallnacht, and called her brother Emil in Berlin: "Emil, the weather outside is so pleasant, why don't you take a walk." Emil understood and went underground that night, ending up in London a few weeks later.
(My father, by the grace of God, had left Siegburg only a few days earlier. Had he tarried, he would have been sent to a concentration camp.) My mother's premonition proved to be correct. In the early morning hours of November 10, 1938, our beautiful synagogue was torched, as were hundreds of synagogues all over Germany. The method of arson used was to toss canisters of flammable material into the sanctuary and strike it, from a safe distance, with a bullet.
From the attic of our house, the flames could be seen against the dark sky, but Mother shielded Miriam and me from such a horrible sight. Some of my personal recollections of that fateful day are recorded in Martin Gilbert's book Kristallnacht (Harper Press 2006). That morning, the windows of Jewish shops in Siegburg were smashed, and all Jewish males 16 to 60 in Siegburg were arrested and sent to Dachau. Almost all returned after several weeks, but many were broken in body and spirit. By that time, most of the Jews were trapped, trying desperately to get out of Germany, but finding no country that would accept them. For some, the single most determining factor was their priority number with the United States Consulate. Those with high numbers would have had to wait several years to gain entry into the United States, by which time they had already met their death in extermination camps.
Excerpted, with permission, from My Childhood in Siegburg, published in 2008 by Mazo Publishers, Jerusalem. The author is currently presenting this book at the annual Siegburg Book Fair.
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