CHAPTER TWO: THE FAMILY AT WAR

War, long expected, broke out on September 1, 1939, when the German army invaded Poland. Reactions were very mixed. Cecil wrote to his mother that day:

Your birthday is being celebrated all over the world this morning. Everybody is excited over the new war. Guns booming, crowds cheering, soldiers marching – all on September first.

I've lived though too many wars that this one perturbs me not in the least. In fact.

I'm glad it's started. When it's over maybe there will be a United States of Europe – then the states can live in peace for awhile.

Edith, who had lived in France during World War One, wrote to Cecil's mother a month later: At times, the war in Europe seems like a nightmare only, so unreal, so far from us. At times, it looms so close and awakens so many old dreadful memories that I have to force myself to think of the present and of the present only. Otherwise the train of thoughts becomes unbearable.

And their friend Martha Thomas wrote to Cecil's sister Lucy in November:

I cannot [see] any hope for peace in Europe and still I hope and wish nothing else but peace over there. I can see only one end of it –– Stalin is only waiting to take over after all the others killed each other. What other solution is possible? Naturally I still love the beautiful German country and the people, although sometimes I cannot understand them so well any more –– and I have friends in England and friends in France and I know none hates the other and everybody would like to have peace and live his own life in his own way and would not mind very much if the Polish corridor belongs to Germany or to Poland –– although I must confess the whole situation in that part of the country is rather crazy (we lived there for five years) –- but after one country started with force there doesn't seem to be another solution but force again. And yet somehow we feel so above such a solution in our so-called civilized time. I wonder if it will be possible for America to keep out of it – sometimes I have the impression they are in already.

The Blanchard Letter

Once war broke out, communications between the United States and Europe became very difficult, often impossible. Among the few letters that survived, the most unexpected is one from Madame Blanchard, a woman whom Edith and her mother and sisters had met in September 1914 when they fled Paris during the German artillery bombardment. Arriving in the middle of the night in Château-du-Loir, a small village in the Sarthe department to the west of Paris, they were given a place to stay and food to eat by this kindly farm woman.

Edith remembered her first experiences of war:

Soon, the German planes began to fly over Paris every night, and to throw bombs. Awakened by the sound of the siren we would run down to the cellar for shelter. People no longer undressed to go to bed, and streets and homes were dark. During the day, the "Big Bertha" [a 17-inch caliber cannon] made itself heard, for the Germans were advancing upon Paris – it was before the first battle of the Marne – and soon the civilian population was urged to leave Paris. The panic, the stampede at the railroad stations I shall never forget. My mother asked a ticket agent for tickets "anywhere". As he happened to be a native of Chateau-du-Loir, a village in the department of the Sarthe, northwest of the Chateau country, he sent us there and we left that very evening. We arrived late in the night at a little station in open country, with no idea where to go. Hotels there were none. Fortunately, there were some people at the station, a farmer and his wife, and they offered us the hospitality of their home for the night. The next day they helped us find a little house adjoining the farm of a friend of theirs. The kindness and generosity of this farmer, M. Blanchard, was boundless. In spite of my mother's most vehement protests he loaded us with gifts every day: milk and eggs and fruits and vegetables. He did not know we were "enemies"; to him we were "refugees". . . .

When the Germans had retreated we returned to Paris and the war, which at first it was firmly believed would end before Christmas, dragged on and on. There were ration cards now for bread and milk and coal and almost everything else, and one had to wait in line for hours and hours.

They met a second time when the German army menaced Paris in 1917:

When the Germans again menaced Paris in 1917, we again went to Chateau-du- Loir. My sisters were left with the Blanchard family and my mother and I returned to Paris a week later, for I did not want to miss school, although school in those days meant mostly knitting and sewing for the soldiers. The German army had been driven back but the bombardment by plane did not cease. I remember how, one morning, on my way to school, I heard a crash of such intensity that I thought the bomb had fallen right onto our own street, on our very house perhaps. I ran wildly back to see whether my mother was still alive. She was, thank God; the bomb had fallen a few blocks further. I went back to school. One became accustomed to the explosion of bombs – that went on for months – and grew callous as long as they did not fall too near.

Madame Blanchard remembered the family after the Second World War had started but before the German army had invaded France. On December 12, 1939, she wrote:

My dear friends
What has become of you, it has been a long time since we heard from you, how are the whole family doing, for my part I am in good health and I want my letter to find you the same. Despite everything that is happening, we still worry about the poor people who are fighting, it's very unfortunate for them to be in water, mud, and snow all the time and sometimes, maybe often, not able to rest because of too much cold or because of attacks by the dirty Krauts [sales Boches] but we are waiting for them, I believe they will not do as they did in 1914, we are waiting for them, they won't come to Paris anytime soon because the city is well guarded and well fortified, and there is enough to receive these people if they decide to come and look. But after all, we will not need all that, these people have no scruples about humanity, they say we do not want war and it is they who make war, since they go into people's homes and return as if they were at home and people do not have the right to say anything, that cannot happen I believe. It is very unfortunate for all of us, because there will still be some poor people who will die, perhaps fewer than in 1914 because it is not the same thing. Let us hope that the year 1940 will bring us peace for a long time .

My best wishes for happiness and health to the whole family for 1940
Mme. Blanchard


A few months later, France was invaded and most of it was occupied by the Wehrmacht. Unfortunately, I have no further information regarding Madame Blanchard and her town.

Edith's Family in Poland

Edith had gone to Lodz in April 1930 to visit her family. Though I do not have letters from them after that, they must have been in touch with her parents. Several months after the German invasion of Poland, Edith's father Wolf wrote to the American Red Cross, hoping for information about them. He received a form letter dated August 2, 1940 that read:

Person inquired on
NAME FINKELBERG
CHRISTIAN NAME Paul
COMPOSITION OF FAMILY father, named above, mother Rose, and four children, all in their thirties or late twenties
LAST ADDRESS 6, go Srpnia, 123, Lodz, Poland
Object of inquiry
Haven't heard from them since long before the war. Am very anxious to know whether these two sisters and this brother of mine, as well as their families are all alive and well, and where they are located now
Inquirer Finkelstein Wolf
WHICH RELATION TO THE PERSON ABOUT WHOM INQUIRY IS MADE Brother
Inquiry date: August 2, 1940
The form was returned on 21 September 1940 by the Comité International de la Croix Rouge marked:
Litzmannstadt Getto
Leiser Hecht Frau Kinder gesund
Ella Ellinger Kinder gesund
Pessach Finkelberg Frau Kinder gesund
In this form, "Paul" refers to Pesser, Wolf's brother and Edith's uncle; "Litzmannstadt" was the German name for Lodz; and "Gesund" means healthy. In other words, the International Red Cross informed the American Red Cross that, as of September 21, 1940, the Finkelberg family was "healthy" and living in the ghetto of Lodz.

On November 23, Edith wrote to Renée (who was living in Washington):
The parents have just received a response to one of the cards I wrote to Lodz. It was written by one of Papa's sisters, the oldest. She and her husband are very unhappy. Until last year, she said, their children gave them food, now they no longer can. The other sister is in a "home". Her husband is dead. They are all asking for help, as soon as possible. I have no further information about the family in Lodz. It is most likely that they were killed in the Holocaust.

Friends and Family in Belgium and France

In October, 1940, Renée had asked Edith for news of their mutual friend Fernande Dain and her husband Alfred (known as Fred). Fred had been drafted into the French army, then taken prisoner by the Germans. Edith wrote back:

Here is Fred's address:
Lieutenant Alfred Dain
Prisoner of War
Kriegsgefangenpost [prisoner of war post]
Number 10851
Oflag XVII A
Deutschland
The Red Cross in Washington sent me a circular with all the information concerning the sending of parcels to prisoners of war. Ask for one too. The shipment of the parcel is free of charge.

Fernande's address:
21 rue Emile Zola
Aubusson (Creuse)
What she asked me specifically for him is: Corned Beef, Condensed Milk, Chocolate, Coffee, and 1 kg of Viandox or liquid Liebig (I could not find any and I sent bouillon cubes.)

She writes "It is to send to Fred at the rate of 1 box or bottle per week and 1 pound of coffee, 1 kg chocolate and 1 kg sugar per month. If you can have it sent to me because of the blockade, would the Red Cross take care of having 1 parcel delivered per month to Fred?

Do you think the German authorities could confiscate parcels if he received too many? From you, from me, from Marcelle too who wants to send some? Maybe if we could get the names of one or two of her comrades, they could share them? You can if you want to send just one parcel and wait to see what Fred says about it. I will write to him.

While Edith's relatives in Poland met a tragic end, her family in Belgium and France survived. Here is an excerpt from a letter that Edith wrote to Renée on November 23, 1940:

I received a card from Brussels today, as follows (dated October 7)

My dears,
We were very happy to receive your news. Above all, I want to reassure you, we are all, absolutely all, alive and in good health. We all participated in this tragedy, either by fighting or by participating in the tragic exodus, but thank God, we found ourselves healthy and safe in Brussels. What can I tell you? It would take too long to tell you, however it is miraculous to be all here. Those from Strasbourg are living in Vichy. . .

Among them, there is only poor Raphael who is a prisoner in Germany, otherwise everything is fine. I can't wait for the war to end, and for us all to be reunited one day.
(signed) Raphael
Note: the Raphael who wrote this letter from Brussels is not to be confused with a cousin Raphael who lived in Strasbourg, France.

On April 1, 1941, Edith wrote to Renée:
On the subject of affidavit for Brussels here is something new. Before receiving his letter I wanted to write to you. . . . to tell you to make an affidavit clearly indicating the state of your finances.

If this affidavit did not make an impression on the American Consul, at least it would show the family in Brussels your good will. Since the State Department told you that, with affidavit or without, Simon could not leave Belgium. . . . Or do you want to make an affidavit for his brother Raphael. . . .

When we made the affidavit for the two guys two years ago I knew the Consul would laugh about it, but we showed we were willing to do what we could.

What you could do is write to Simon Hirsch and give him all the information you got at the State Dept. about depositing X dollars in an American bank, etc.

Two days later, on April 3, 1941, Edith's cousin Rachel Muller, who was living in Vichy, France, wrote to Edith:

We had the pleasure of seeing our brother Raphael return from captivity, he was repatriated sick about three weeks ago but, thank God, he is now well again, it is only his nerves that are still very tense.

If you can send us packages as often as possible containing: condensed milk, sugar, chocolate, wool, sardines, canned kosher meat, canned fish, sewing thread, darning cotton, this would be of immense service to us, by wool I mean knitting wool, baby wool for Netty and Raphael's children, and other wool. I thank you very sincerely in advance now from the whole family. Please tell other family members that they would do well to send us such packages. Thank you all a thousand times in advance.

And on June 27,1941 Rachel wrote again to Edith:

There is indeed some American aid that has arrived, but only intended for young children: milk, clothes, etc. but with the number of children there are, it is quite insufficient. . . . .

We lack milk, sugar, chocolate, sardines, canned fish and meat but KOSHER, sewing thread, darning cotton, stockings, used, warm clothes, etc. So you can send what you want, if your means allow it.

We are totally without news from the family in Brussels, only from Sarah and Esther who are from Lyon and from whom we have news from time to time.

What these letters tell us is that the family hoped to emigrate to America, but were expected to present an affidavit to the American authorities proving that they had sufficient funds in the United States so they would not be a burden on the American taxpayers. Yet even with such affidavits—"the Consul would laugh about it"—and they were not allowed to immigrate.

Meanwhile, like other people in France, they were short of food and other necessities and hoped to get help from their American relatives. Yet despite the hardships and terror of the German occupation, those living in France and Belgium survived, all except Rachel's brother Maurice, who was deported and never returned.

In addition to these documents, there is a long letter dated June 22, 1945 (that is, after the end of the war) from Edith's cousin Ralph (or Raphael) in Brussels to Edith's mother Serafina, in which he recounts his experiences:

My dear aunt,
We have received your letter which reached us yesterday, and as you see, I hasten to respond to you.
We have lived through tragic hours, which thank God, will soon only exist as sad memories.
Do you know that we are the only family in Belgium that is complete, having escaped the Gestapo, and death. It was not adventures that we lacked. I'll tell you that. You remember that in 1938, my cousin Headrick [i.e. Cecil] provided me with an affidavit; when upon receipt of the documents I went to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to obtain a passport, I was told that the international situation was critical for the moment, and that as I was available for mobilization, I could not be allowed to leave the continent. Indeed, a few months later, I was drafted and since then the problems have not stopped. A long mobilization, followed by a short war. I returned home safe and sound, Mother gone, my wife also, my brother not yet back, my sisters gone. I suspected that I would find them in France. So I left, and traveled throughout France for 3 months, I was in all the departments, I went as far as the Spanish border, but I could not decide to cross the border without Mother and my wife. In short, I found two sisters in Lyon, Sarah and Esther. I returned to Brussels and found everyone, thank God, having escaped the bombings. At first the Germans left us in peace, but then began the arrests of Polish, Czech, Russian Jews, etc., etc. An aunt and cousins were victims of these measures. We managed to hide Mother in a Catholic religious institution in the countryside, and she stayed there for three years without leaving. As the Belgian Jews were not yet worried, the rest of the family remained in Brussels. I would have tried to reach England or the United States, but I did not want to leave Mother, and the trip with her was impossible. In 1943, the Germans began their roundups of Belgian Jews, they arrested a lot of them, miraculously, they did not come to our house that night. The next day I packed my bags, I took my wife to my mother, and I came back to Brussels. Because I had to work to meet my needs, my boss kept me at home. I worked as the first tailor in one of the best houses in Brussels, and as he liked me very much, I continued to work in the store during the day, and to sleep there at night. I went to see my mother and my wife every week, at the risk of being arrested along the way. This happened to me twice, but as I had false papers, I escaped. You can't imagine, Aunt, how painful this anguish was, of not feeling safe at any time of the day or night, of being suspicious of everyone, of fearing any car that stopped, and of telling each other in the evenings another day has passed, provided the night goes well. Fortunately, I don't have the Semitic type. In short, a year passed like this, as I didn't earn enough to support a huge lifestyle like the one I had, I often experienced hunger, but no one knew anything about it, Mother and my wife lacked nothing. . . .

I was nevertheless denounced one day, I don't know by whom, and the Gestapo came to the store to arrest me on April 22, 1944. I was taken to the assembly camp to be deported. I had an excellent morale, and on May 17, the very day before the departure of the convoy, I planned my escape with 2 comrades and I succeeded miraculously, but alone, one of my comrades was killed by a sentry, the other was caught. Alone, I managed to escape, without money, without papers, I walked 80 km, through the network of German police to my boss's villa in the countryside. I was hidden in a village until the liberation. Once again, I was the only one to have escaped from a concentration camp in Belgium.

In short, after the liberation, Mother returned to Brussels, her house had been completely looted and devastated, it was uninhabitable, life was terribly expensive. I immediately earned money, had the house repaired, furnished it sparsely and mother returned to her home. She sublets part of the house, she only keeps a small apartment for herself, and I give her a little money every week in proportion to my means, so that with a supplement, she can get by. She is in good health, thank God, and is happy that all the children escaped the Germans. I am also well, all the money I had has gone to restore Mother's situation, for she can no longer take care of herself.

I live in a furnished apartment, my furniture having been stolen by the Germans. I have a very good relationship with my former boss, I am the commercial and technical director, and I have a large staff under my command, but despite this situation I no longer like it here at all. I can't explain to you in writing why, but I assure you that life is very difficult. I have only one desire, to leave the continent, and as soon as the war with Japan is over, I would like to finally realize my lifelong dream, to reach the United States. As a technician, I believe I can earn my living there, and then I have absolutely nothing to lose, a situation like I have, I can always find one again, I am in enough demand. Do you believe, dear Aunt, that one day, if I need your help to reach the USA, I can count on you, or one of my cousins? I know that my cousin Haedrick [Cecil] is in Luxembourg, but as I don't know him, I don't want to bore him with these things. Perhaps he would do it again, but I'm waiting for your opinion on this subject. I would already like to save money for the trip.

The rest of the family lives in Brussels, and everyone is doing well. It is really only poor Maurice, whom I loved very much, who has disappeared. I hope he will come back.

Mother thanks you very much for the packages you promised her, it will do her good. How are things with you? Are you in good health, and my Uncle? Edith, Renée and Mary, will they write to us, and my cousin Nadia?

Dear Aunt, make sure they write to us, and give us lots of news. I look forward to knowing all my family one day, hopefully soon.

I am finishing this long letter and I look forward to hearing from you.
Receive my dear Aunt, my best kisses
Your Nephew Ralph