Hiding Edith (2 page)

Thousands of Jewish children survived by hiding in this way. One was Edith Schwalb. Constantly afraid, she moved from place to place, concealing her identity and hiding her faith. This is her remarkable story.

Edith Schwalb

“Walk quickly, Edith,” Papa urged. “Your mother will be waiting for us with a hot lunch. We don’t want to be late, do we?”

Edith clutched her father’s hand tightly. But Papa had such long steps that she almost had to run to keep up. She shifted her school bag and focused on avoiding the crowds of people surging around her. Men and women rushed in all directions, buzzing like giant bees. Cars honked their horns impatiently as pedestrians darted out into traffic. The sun beat down on Edith’s head, and for a moment she longed to stop and savor its warm rays on her small face.

Vienna in May was alive with flowers and birds, smells and sounds. Cafés had opened their doors, inviting customers to come in and sit down. Street vendors paraded their wares: sweet ice cream and mouth-watering chocolate; other merchants displayed newspapers and magazines. Store windows were filled with colorful summer fashions. The city had woken up like a bear after its hibernation. And Edith wanted to take it all in. But she had to keep up with Papa, and that meant she couldn’t stop.

The day was so beautiful and the city so energetic that Edith hardly even thought about how scary life was becoming. No matter how young you were, you couldn’t live in Vienna in 1938 and not know that Austria was becoming dangerous. Two months earlier, Germany had invaded, and Nazi soldiers had marched right through the streets of Vienna. Austrian citizens came out to cheer, waving flags with the swastika, the emblem of the Nazi army, emblazoned on them. But Jewish families like Edith’s did not cheer. They whispered the name of Adolf Hitler in fear. Hitler was the leader of Nazi Germany, and he hated Jewish people. He said that they were filthy, greedy, and dangerous. He said that Jews were the enemy of Germany and had to be stopped. He had promised that Austrian people would have a better life once they got rid of all the Jews. And now his supporters were in power in Austria, and wanted to punish anyone who was Jewish. They were stopping Jewish people from doing the things they normally did, like going to parks and playgrounds, and even to some stores. Jewish businesses were forced to close or were being taken over by Nazi supporters.

A Nazi sign on a restaurant window in Vienna informing the public that Jews are not welcome.

Since the troubles started, Papa had come to get Edith every day after school, worried about her safety. Edith shook her head. She didn’t want to think about that right now. Besides, she was hungry. School always made her hungry. Her stomach was grumbling, and she was dreaming about lunch.

“Hello, Herr Schwalb,” a man called out, waving to Edith’s father and interrupting her thoughts. “Wonderful game last night. Your last goal was most impressive.”

Papa smiled and waved back but barely slowed his pace. Edith was accustomed to strangers stopping her father, shaking his hand, and even hugging him. His soccer skills were known throughout Vienna, a city that loved its sports — and its winning players. Papa hardly noticed the attention, but Edith loved it.

“There’s the tram,” cried Papa. “Come, Edith. Let’s make a run for it.”

He clutched his daughter’s hand even tighter, and together Edith and her father sprinted across the busy intersection and jumped onto the open streetcar. Papa grabbed the railing just as the tram lurched forward. Edith nestled in under her father’s big arm. She loved to stand on the streetcar just like this. With Papa holding on to her, she felt safe and secure, even as the streetcar bumped and swayed. The wind blew her short brown hair across her face, and she reached up to touch the white ribbon that her mother, Mutti, had tied in place that morning.

A streetcar adorned with swastikas, the emblem of the Nazi army, and a large sign announcing a meeting to support the takeover of Austria.

“Engerthstrasse!” the conductor shouted moments later. “Watch your step as you descend.”

Papa jumped down easily and turned to catch his daughter. Edith smiled as she grabbed her father’s hand, and hopped lightly onto the sidewalk.
Only one block to walk and then I can eat,
she thought.

It was her last thought before the soldiers surrounded them.

“Gestapo! Papers, please.”

A tall grim man stepped in front of Edith and her father, holding out his hand. Edith froze. She knew about the Gestapo. They were the special police force that carried out Hitler’s orders, known for their cruelty to Jews. Just a week earlier, a Gestapo officer had beaten up her friend’s father on his way home from work.

“My father was just walking along, minding his own business,” her friend, Marta, had said. “But when they asked for his papers and saw that he was Jewish, they punched him hard in the stomach and left him lying on the road.”

Edith thought about Marta’s father as Papa calmly reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his identification documents.

The officer grabbed the papers, glaring at the huge
J
on the first page. He barely glanced at Edith and her father. “Juden! Jews!” he muttered.

“Is there a problem, sir?” asked Papa, removing his hat courteously and addressing the Gestapo officer.

For the first time, the man looked up. His face showed such disgust! Edith had never seen so much hatred before, and it frightened her. But as the man considered her father, his expression suddenly changed. Loathing turned to surprise and then to recognition.

Jews are forced to scrub the pavement in Austria as Nazi soldiers look on.

“Herr Schwalb!” he cried. “I didn’t recognize you. It’s me, Ernst. We have played soccer together. I’m a big fan.” The man was smiling now.

Papa remained impassive. “What is going on here, Ernst? Is there a problem?”

A sign on the front of a Jewish business in Vienna which reads “Not one penny to the Jews.”

Ernst pointed off to one side of the street. An old bearded man and his wife huddled together, along with several other people, surrounded by soldiers guarding them with guns. “It’s a roundup,” he said. “We are arresting Jews for questioning. We’ll rough them up a bit before we send them home — teach them a lesson.” There was a girl Edith’s age in the group, and for a moment, their eyes met. The girl seemed terrified and helpless. Edith quickly turned away. Ernst was peering at their papers. Then he straightened and looked
around. When it appeared that no one was watching, he leaned in and lowered his voice.

“Get out of Vienna, Herr Schwalb,” he whispered to Edith’s father.

“I don’t understa—” Papa began.

“Get out now!” With that, the officer pushed the documents into Papa’s hands. “Gestapo! Papers, please,” he bellowed to the people next in line. Edith and her father quickly moved off.

The sign on the telephone pole reads “Jews are not welcome here.”

“Papa, what did that man mean?” Edith asked when she and her father were out of earshot. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Quiet!” her father replied with a brusqueness that startled Edith. Then he glanced down and placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry, my darling,” he said. “We’ll talk when we get home.”