What a surprise I had when I opened up The Jewish Link to see my friends Bob Hilliard and Ed Herman, who were so helpful to Jewish displaced persons in Germany, in your history section (“Two Unsung Heroes: Bob Hilliard and Ed Herman in St. Ottilien,” August 5, 2021).

I remember the picture that was taken in 2000 in Florida. I was there with my father, Max Goldsammler, of blessed memory, at the first reunion of displaced persons who once lived in St. Ottilien. I was born at St. Ottilien, which is a Benedictine monastery outside of Munich, Germany. A magnificently beautiful place of rolling hills. During World War ll the monastery was hostile to the Nazi regime, and the German government forced the monastery to be closed

After the war, my parents, who were Holocaust survivors, were smuggled into Germany by the BRICHA, the Jewish underground, so that my pregnant mother would find a “safe “ place for me to be born. Just because the war was over did not mean that antisemitism was over in Europe or Germany—and German hospitals were not safe for Jewish survivors. A British military officer understood this, and directed my parents to the American zone which had set up a hospital for Jewish DPs with Jewish doctors in the former monastery at St. Ottilien.

We lived in the area for the next four years waiting for the Americans to open the United States borders for the DPs to enter. I went to nursery school taught by German teachers. I was bilingual: Yiddish and German.

After meeting Hillard and Herman at the reunion, they encouraged me to return to St. Ottilien. I was appalled. The thought was too painful. Still, several years ago when my husband and I were spending a sabbatical year in Israel, I felt it was time to return to where I was born. Why then? Because I would be coming from Jerusalem and then returning to Jerusalem. This was very meaningful for me.

An old Benedictine monastery on acres of rolling hills, St. Ottilien is absolutely beautiful. When we came upon Benedictine monk Fr. Cyrill Schafer and identified ourselves, he knew my story. He cleared his calendar and showed us around.

He showed me where I was born. He took us to a small cemetery on the monastery grounds. There was a fence around the graves with two Jewish stars. Most of the graves were of children who did not survive and died shortly after birth. Several of the graves were of mothers who had died in childbirth. My husband, Charles, asked if it was appropriate if he could pray. He recited the Kel Maleh loudly, with such heartfelt passion that Fr. Schafer began to cry and also pray.

We have a warm, standing invitation to return and stay on premises.

It was an extremely moving and painful experience. Still, it was the fact that we came from Israel and were returning to Israel that enabled us to make the trip and again shows the resiliency and forever continuity of the Jewish people.

Thank you again for acknowledging Mr. Herman and Mr. Hilliard’s contributions.