The Remnant - Stories of the Jewish Resistance in WWII (39 page)

"You can go, but not to Palestine!" the official muttered uncomfortably.

"All right, where can I go?"

The official's face became even more florid. He picked up his book and leafed through it as if looking for an answer. "Well," he stated finally, "except for returning to the Ukraine, where they have to accept you back, there's no place that will take you right away. However, there are a number of countries, which have much shorter waiting lists. You could go to Holland, Denmark or Sweden in a shorter time. Maybe even America. Canada!"

"But what about this week? Or next?"

"No place."

"And if I did go to one of those countries, could I then go to Palestine?"

"Not as a Jew."

There was nothing left to be said. Solomon turned and walked away from the desk, bitter, frustrated.

Father Peter picked up all the forms and began to follow Solomon out of the office.

"No," Sol said, turning back to the sound of the priest's following footsteps, "complete your paperwork. This is my problem. You must make your arrangements to go to Palestine. I insist. I'll wait for you in the hall."

Solomon's tone told Father Peter that he best finish. The more I see how the world treats the Jews, Father Peter thought, the more I realize that no gentile will ever know just how it feels to be Jewish. After his paperwork was complete, Father Peter met Sol where he waited in the hallway.

"You want to know something funny, Father Peter? All my life I have wondered about something and the answer has always eluded me. I remember my grandfather saying that the most precious thing we had was our birthright. Well, I understood that we were Jews by birth, but he spoke of 'birthright'-'birthright!'-implying it to be a privilege.

"As a child, growing up, I wondered what privilege he saw in it. Was it a wonderful privilege to be everyone's scapegoat, to be spat on and beat up by the goyim? Was it a privilege to have lived in ghettos and worry about every drunken group of goyim starting a pogrom-or just having fun breaking our windows and looting our stores, raping our sisters and mothers?

"Well, now it all comes clear to me. Finally, when my birthright allows me to spend my days in a displaced person's camp, I realize what my grandfather understood so long ago.

"My birthright allows me to live with a clear conscience! As a Jew, I don't have to carry with me the gentile's guilt! I haven't the shame of contributing to the bigotry, bloodshed and hate that has contaminated this planet for the last twenty centuries. It is my birthright to be oppressed throughout history-but I think that is easier to live with than the guilt of being the oppressor!"

That evening, tempers cooled, perspective regained, Solomon persuaded Father Peter that the only thing for him to do was to go ahead to Palestine. "It would be pointless for you to stay here. Go ahead! Get settled in your new homeland. Write me about it. At least I'll know from you what it's really like. And when I do get there, I'll have a settled-in friend to help me out."

There really was no alternative. By the end of the week, Father Peter headed toward Palestine and left Sol considering life in a displaced persons camp. It was not easy for a Ukrainian Jew to find a place and a way to make a living in postwar Austria. At least in the displaced persons camp, he would be among his own people. He would have shelter, food, medical aid should he need it. And unlike the concentration camps, he could always leave if things didn't work out.

The displaced persons camps were really far different from concentration camps, but for those who had survived concentration camps-especially the children-they kept the nightmares alive. Any form of confinement and regimentation, however lax, was a reminder. But for the displaced Jews the DP camps were the best alternative. The DP camps came under the auspices of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration. At war's end, only 50,000 Jews came out of the death factories alive. At first, they joined the streams of refugees returning to their places of origin, but before long they found that, unlike the non-Jewish refugees, they had no place to return to. In addition, there were those who had survived the war in hiding, in resistance groups and a few who had succeeded in posing as "Aryans." The DP camps brought all of these Jews together.

Since Jewish communities were prevented or discouraged from re forming in postwar Europe and Russia, they began to form in the DP camps. There the universal problem was recognized and out of that universal problem grew a universal Jewish purpose-to open the doors of Palestine and re establish it as their rightful homeland-the Jewish State, Israel.

President Truman, on June 22, 1945, appointed Earl G. Harrison to report on the conditions and needs of the displaced persons in Germany-particularly the Jews. On August 1, 1945, Truman received the report. It described the harsh and crowded conditions. "The first and plainest need of these people," the report read, "is recognition of their status as Jews. Refusal to recognize the Jews as such has the effect of closing one's eyes to their former persecution.

"For reasons that are obvious, most Jews want to leave Germany and Austria. The life which they have been forced to lead has made them impatient of delay. They wish to evacuate to Palestine now. I come to but one conclusion: the only real solution to the problem lies in the evacuation of all non repatriable Jews in DP camps, who wish it, to Palestine."

President Truman transmitted the report to General Eisenhower, Supreme Commander of the U.S. Forces in Europe, to be acted upon. Conditions in the camps were immediately improved. UNRRA appointed Jewish refugees to posts in the administration of the camps. Most importantly, President Truman recommended to the British Government that one hundred thousand immigration certificates be issued, allowing Jews in the DP camps into Palestine.

The British refused.

By the time Solomon made his way to a DP camp-it was on the German side of the German Austria border-the improved conditions were already being enforced. He found a highly organized society within the camp. A kindergarten was being operated for those too young for regular school. School-age children were being taught in Hebrew and Yiddish as well as in the language of their origin. For most, it was the first formal schooling they'd ever had. There were also ORT vocational schools for adults, teaching skills needed in Palestine. Agricultural schools were also established. Anyone who didn't know the languages tried to learn conversational Hebrew and Yiddish, which would become their native tongues.

Newspapers were published by the DPs themselves and the Zionist Organization actually set up an office in the camp to help Jews prepare for their future. In an extensive survey carried out by UNRRA, it was found that 96.8 percent of the Jews desired to go to Palestine. There was only one problem-the British refused to let them in!

On December 5, 1945, the British closed the doors of their European occupation zones to refugees. The ban was for all refugees; almost all other DPs had found places to settle and start anew. Only the Jews had no place to alight. Of course, this placed added burden on the DP camps in the American zone. Also, more and more Jews came out of the Polish and Russian zones because of renewed anti-Semitism in those countries. In the first few months of 1946, one hundred forty thousand Jews fled Poland alone-after the bloody pogrom in Kielce, on July 4th of that year, ninety thousand more Jews abandoned their homes in terror. The pogrom in Kielce murdered nearly one out of every four Jews resettled in that city-and most of the others had been severely injured.

International opinion and pressure did not impress the British. They barred the door to Palestine and that was all there was to it.

Sol had been attending one of the ORT trade schools in the DP camp. He was learning auto and tractor mechanics. He thought that when he got to Palestine it would be a valuable and needed skill on a Kibbutz. Though the work had its challenge; it not only enabled him to make a contribution, but it gave him time to himself when he could think. One morning in the spring of 1946, a young man approached Sol's workbench. "You are Solomon Shalensky?"

"Yes. What can I do for you?"

The man looked about Sol's age, twenty two or twenty three years old. He spoke Yiddish, the language understood by most DPs, allowing communication between people from all over Eastern and Western Europe, as well as those helping from other parts of the world.

"My name is Milton Feldman. I'm an American with the Jewish Committee. We are making inquiries into the conditions in the various camps. Could we talk-privately?"

"What can I tell you?"

"I have been lent an office upstairs. Do you mind if we go there to speak?"

"Not at all," Sol replied, putting his tools away and wiping the grease off his hands. There was something about this young man that did not quite ring true. He wore a short sleeved shirt without tie or coat. He was neat, but certainly not dressed in the business attire of most officials. He seemed to have something else on his mind beside the conditions of the camp. Sol didn't know why he sensed that, but the feeling was strong. There was no conversation on the way to the office. When they got there Milton ushered Solomon in. It was more a storage room than an office. Milton closed the door behind him. The room contained a table and two chairs-nothing else.

"What do you want of me?" Sol asked. "Who are you really? I feel it is something other than camp conditions."

The stranger smiled. "Of course I'm not interested in the camp conditions. I can see all I need to know about the camp conditions. I am interested in emptying the camp! The Jewish Agency provided us with a front-and an excuse to enter these camps. I am really an American, but I come via Palestine. I'm with the Haganah."

"Haganah? The Jewish army of Palestine? You are really with Haganah?"

"Yes, with a special section assigned to bring 'illegals' into Palestine."

"Illegals?"

"Yes, illegals. It is the British name for those who enter Palestine without legal papers."

"You are making an overture? Recruiting me to enter Palestine illegally?"

"You come to the point quickly, don't you?" Milton Feldman grinned.

"Why wouldn't I go? What fool would turn down such an invitation?"

"It's not without risk, Solomon. Many get caught. If that happens, you will most likely be interned in a British prison camp on Cyprus. Believe me, the conditions here are much nicer than on Cyprus. Also, you will be taken off the quota lists. It may end your chances forever getting into Palestine legally. It is something to think about."

"I have just given it all the thought I intend to. I want to go. What must I do?"

"You just did it!"

Solomon laughed, "I did?"

You will be contacted," Milton told him. "Now go back to your work and say nothing of this to anyone!"

"May I ask why you came to me for this privilege?"

"There will be time for that later. Just return to your work and say nothing. If anyone asks you, you just told us of the general conditions here and how much you love it."

Nothing happened.

Nothing more was said.

Several weeks passed and Solomon began to think he'd imagined the whole thing, except he knew of several other DPs who had been interviewed about "camp conditions." But none spoke to each other about the incidents. They all did as they were told and said nothing. Sol knew of at least seven who had been interviewed. Could it all have been a cruel joke? He wondered how many others had been asked. He was dying to talk to someone about the matter, but too much was at stake. He was not about to spoil his or others' chances.

At long last, another stranger came to his bench one morning and asked, "Solomon Shalensky"

"Yes!"

"We finally have the results of the survey on camp conditions you took part in. You remember the survey, don't you?"

Sol's heart began to pound. "Yes, of course. What's become of it?"

"That is why I'm here. All those who are interested can hear the results. I assume you're still interested?"

"Absolutely!"

"Good. Tomorrow morning, leave the camp as if you were just going to town. Take only what you consider essential. No luggage-only the clothes you wear. Come to this address before seven in the evening, but not before noon." He handed Sol a folded piece of paper. "Again, say nothing to anyone."

Solomon arrived at the address in the early afternoon. It was a bookstore. Milton Feldman was there, greeting each DP as he or she entered the store. They came throughout the afternoon. As quickly as they arrived they were taken away by another Haganah member. The DPs came from several camps so that not any one camp would turn up with a large number missing in any one day. A few absentees per day were considered normal attrition in most camps.

From the store, Solomon and two others were taken to a farm just on the other side of the Austrian border. It was a safe house run by the Haganah. The tight security was not so much for fear of local authorities, for the DPs had every right to move about the country. Security was kept strict so that the British wouldn't be on the lookout for a large group of 'illegals' getting ready to run past their patrols off the Palestine coast.

Solomon and the growing group stayed three more days at the farm. When the last of their numbers arrived, they totaled thirty nine; just enough to fill a bus which the Haganah simply chartered to take the DPs to the Italian port city of LaSpezia. Numerous other groups of DPs were waiting there and others were yet to come. The Jews were hidden on several nearby farms.

On the evening of the third day after Sol's group had arrived at LaSpezia, a dilapidated Greek freighter steamed into port. It off loaded its cargo and moved to another pier to await its turn for a dry dock overhaul. Its crew was given a two day shore leave; only the captain and a skeleton crew of handpicked men remained aboard. A messenger was sent to a member of the Haganah with the code phrase, "Awaiting new manifest."