(continued from last week)
The ship stayed in the Havana harbor while Jewish organizations, as well as the shipping agency, tried to negotiate with the Cuban government. It was all to no avail and, in fact, the authorities ordered the vessel to leave the harbor on June 2, 1939. While talks were still going on, the refugees onboard tried to remain hopeful. The vessel steamed up and down the Florida coast between June 3 and June 6, so near to the coast that the passengers, with longing, looked at the lights of Miami Beach as they passed by. The American government did not relent and did not allow anyone into the US either.
Finally, when the captain of the M/S St. Louis realized that he was running out of food, he requested instructions from his head office and was told to return to Germany immediately. Upon hearing this announcement on June 6, the passengers were gripped by despair and fear, knowing quite well that a return to Germany would mean immediate transport to a concentration camp. A number of attempted suicides were reported at that point.
At this point I want to say a word about the captain of the M/S St. Louis, Gustav Schroeder. Although the ship and the crew were German, and although it was known that several members of the crew and officers were Nazis and were filing reports with the Gestapo, the captain was always a gentleman, treating his passengers with respect and consideration. He stated that he was the captain of the ship, and that all passengers were his guests. It is known that he was threatened by the crew members and officers for treating the Jews so humanely, but he persisted until the end. In consideration for his wonderful behavior, he was subsequently declared by Israel as a “Righteous Gentile” and a tree was planted in his honor and memory at the Yad Vashem Holocaust Memorial in Jerusalem.
Furious activity commenced in the European capitals, and in Jewish international organizations, when it became known that the vessel was on its way back to Germany with the expected consequences.
Just a few days before the vessel was to arrive in Bremen, several countries decided to each take a percentage of the passengers, so that none had to return to Germany. Great Britain took 287, France accepted 224, Belgium 214 and the Netherlands 181. The announcement was made to the passengers to loud cheers on June 13, 1939.
All passengers were debarked in Antwerp on June 17. Opa had been assigned to the group going to Holland, and on June 18 he was transported on a small vessel the “Jan van Arckel” with 180 other refugees, from Antwerp to Rotterdam. Belgium would not permit the transport by rail from Belgium to Holland, which would have been the logical way of transportation. All were taken to a quarantine station, Heijplaat, where many other German refugees were already being held, awaiting transfer to some other destination. Most would remain there for weeks and months and only a few would ultimately survive when the Nazis invaded the country.
Opa wrote pages and pages of letters to us in Frankfurt, from on board the ship, and from the camp, all of which were saved by Oma and brought to the US. We have donated these letters to the Museum of Jewish Heritage in lower Manhattan, together with all other family memorabilia.
Immediately upon arrival in Heijplaat, Opa notified the American Consulate in De Hague of his location, and that he was awaiting his visa to the US.
The US had an immigration quota, under which only a limited number of refugees from each country were able to obtain visas to the US each year. The US started issuing quota numbers sometime in the 1930s. Since obtaining a visa was dependent on your quota number, the earlier you obtained a number, the sooner you would obtain your visa. Our family had a quota number in the 16,000s. At the time when Opa was in Holland, visas were being given to families from Germany who had numbers 8000-9000 at the rate of 2000-3000 each year—in other words, Opa would have a long wait.
Opa was notified by the consulate that even when his quota number would be reached, he could not receive a visa, since the affidavits that he had obtained from his US relatives and friends were insufficient, and he was urged to contact the affidavit issuers to obtain improvements. Opa immediately wrote to the relatives in New York, but before he could even get a reply, he received a postcard from the US Consul saying, “Mr. Strauss, come and pick up your visa.”
Opa went to De Hague, certain that they would catch their error, and that he would return empty handed to the camp. But instead, he did indeed receive his visa and, upon returning to the camp, his friends there asked him whom he had bribed. Opa assured everyone that he neither knew anyone there, nor did he have any money with which to bribe anyone.
Many years later, when we discussed this occurrence again and again, Opa still had no explanation as to how or why it happened. He only said that God maybe wanted his family to live, so that they would be able to help others, and therefore He caused this miracle to happen. It was no doubt a “Nes min Hashamayim” (Miracle from Heaven).
Opa left Rotterdam in the late summer 1939, on the S/S Staatendam, bound for New York, where he was welcomed by our relatives.
Life, which up until Kristallnacht, had become increasingly more difficult for Jews, but bearable, became unbearable thereafter.
Jews not of German origin, mostly from Eastern Europe, were rounded up already in 1939 and deported to concentration camps, mostly in Poland. Many mornings when I would come to school, I would find empty seats of students, and also teachers missing. They had been arrested during the night and shipped out. The rest of us knew it was just a matter of time before our turn would come.
All Jewish families had to report to the Gestapo weekly so that when the time came for deportation, the Gestapo would know where everyone lived.
Food became increasingly difficult to obtain, and whatever there was often was of such poor quality that it was not edible. Purchases could be made only in specifically designated Jewish-owned stores. Others had signs “Juden Unerwuenscht” (Jews not wanted). Coal for heating and cooking was no longer being delivered to Jews and had to be picked up at the coal yard at the bank of the river Main. I remember many times going with my uncles and cousins (we were now four families living in one apartment) to the coal yard during the freezing winter, using a rented pushcart and borrowed burlap bags, to pick up coal.
(To be continued next week)
By Norbert Strauss
