Letters From the Lost (21 page)

Although it is too late for the Fränkels to come to Canada, Ilserl is being tutored in English. To me, it is an indicator that the Fränkels have not completely relinquished their dream of crossing the Atlantic.

Because Martha’s letter is so filled with news and because Emil seems so enterprising, I am reassured. It is my research into historical events of 1939 that uncovers two deeply disturbing facts. On the Internet, I find the following:

Middle of September 1939: establishment of jews with polish nationality. By searching houses and flats in Prague, those Jews who formerly had held Polish nationality were found.

27 September 1939: removal of polish nationals. By Transportation.
⁷

The words jump from my computer screen. Removal. Transportation. Former Polish Nationals. Emil was a former Polish National.

Anxiously, I scan the remaining 1939 letters for further news. How did the Fränkels manage, when other Jews with Polish nationality were being “removed by transportation”? These words were the standard euphemism for “shipped to a concentration camp.”

Two letters from Else and Emil Urbach provide clues, but no clear answers. In a letter dated October 13,1939, Else directs the focus to family news. She refers to changing conditions almost in passing, as if they do not really apply to the Urbachs. Others may be rushing to emigrate, but she is waiting for the storm to pass, painting a rather tranquil picture of daily life.

My Dear Ones,

It was a nice surprise for us all when, after a long pause, we again received a letter from you. We are very glad that you are in good health, and thank God I can report the same of our parents and of everyone here.

Our Marianne is in a French school now. She is also taking a sewing course so that she will be well prepared to help our brother Otto produce women’s knitwear fashions in Paris. To our delight, we had pleasant news from him several times lately. He has probably also written to you several times.

Last week we visited Gretl’s parents. They went to the synagogue during all the High Holidays and have adapted well to the circumstances. I can imagine how much you wish you already had them with you. You must not lose courage that it will come to pass, and when it does, your delight will be doubly great.

Helly will surely already be a big girl and bring lots of life to the house. She could play nicely now with Dorly, who is very cute and is toddling about, babbling continuously in her own language.

It is only Else’s reference to problems experienced by
“our people”
in finding accommodation that strikes a jarring note:

Despite all the sorrows, time flies and before we noticed, the summer had passed. We are now in search of a suitable place to live since we must move within the next three months. Today we found out that there is an apartment in a large house across the street. We looked at it right away. It is quite modern, with central heating and balconies, but it is very expensive. We are to hear in three days whether they will rent it to us. These days, they do not like to rent to so many people and not everywhere to our people, so there is not much choice.

Strangely, toward the end of the letter, Else’s handwritten words transition in mid-sentence to typed lines offering concrete suggestions that can only be from Emil Urbach.

I hope that the winter will pass well. It will certainly be quite severe where you are, and I hope that you have enough fuel from your woods and dry plants. Did you ever get the book on raising pigs and cattle? I also wanted to send you a book on gardening, but I was waiting to hear whether you received the other books. Dogs have risen very much in price recently and are used for a variety of purposes: fat, hides, hunting and tracking, guarding property, etc. I suppose you wouldn’t have time to raise bees? Honey would be a
good item to sell, especially if you had honey-bearing plants in the fields.

Emil’s final paragraph strikes a chilling note. Unlike my parents and the rest of the family, he harbours no dreams that “someday” we will all meet again.

We did not know what to do with your reference to “holding on to the thought of seeing one another again here at home. ” We still do not know how to take this comment. It is our opinion that every single person who is outside of Europe is to be considered fortunate. You are heartily greeted by the whole Urbach family.

What prompted Emil’s words remains a mystery. The only logical possibility is that my parents had written a letter expressing their own loneliness, and wondering if someday, they would all be re-united back in Strobnitz, the place where they had experienced the simple joys of family and had known happiness.

Emil pours cold water upon that dream with his blunt reminder that anyone who has managed to leave Europe is indeed fortunate. Remarkably, in his last unsigned letter of 1939, Emil does not mention the Fränkels in the catalogue of family news.

Dec. 6, 1939

My dear ones,

We were very pleased the other day to have seen your lines to our dear parents in Budweis and to the other relatives. From them, we gather that you are doing well and that the state of your cattle and the marketing possibilities for butter have improved.

At the usual Sunday gatherings, you always occupy an important place on the program. We wrote to you a while ago, but the letter seems to have gotten lost. That is why your remark that you had not heard from us in two months rather surprised us.

One of us regularly visits your dear parents, Max and Resl Grünhut. They live quietly and modestly, lacking for nothing aside from their wish to leave, which unfortunately is still rather difficult. Your dear mother is in good health, gets distracted by your dear father from the everyday routine through visits, board games, etc. They often go for walks or visit relatives and acquaintances. They also go to the synagogue assiduously. Thus, they pass the time that they would like so much to be spending with you. Our dear parents in Budweis are living in a similar way

As of January, we will be living near Arnold. Else will be able to enjoy the city more, since she has been spending lots of time now on the acquisition of food because of the considerable distance from the stores. The children are still attending school. Marianne is learning French, and our Otto is completing the last year of Gymnasium. Time will teach us what they should do a year from now.

We get comforting reports from your brother Otto from time to time. Let us hope that they correspond to reality and that it will remain thus.

Many people from here are immigrating to Palestine now. Manni and his wife have already landed there. We do not lack food. Everything is very purposefully regulated, well organized.

Edi, did you ever receive the books? The one on raising cattle too? I still have a book on horticulture and a flyer and a chart on combating the Colorado beetle, but do not know if these would reach you. I will leave it for later times. With best regards

T
HE YEAR 1940 BEGINS WITH A LETTER
from my Grandmother Fanny, who hungers for news about us and the farm.

I want to end the old year and start the new by writing to you, my dear children. My thoughts dwell constantly upon you and I cannot hide from you how lonely we are for you. We received a copy of the letter that you, dear Anny and Gretl, wrote to your parents, but we were doubly pleased with the letter you addressed directly to us, especially since it was quite detailed. We long to know everything about your new life.

Still, one cannot change things. You are fortunate that work is all you have to worry about and that you are adapting so well. Especially you, dear Gretl and Anny. Who would have believed you’d have the strength for hard labour? I beg you to eat heartily, for that makes quite a difference.

We’ve had severe frost for several days now, which again makes me think of you often in regards to having to get up early. But it
has to be done, doesn’t it, my dear Edmund. You’ve no other choice. If you don’t do it, the animals will do you in.

Fanny shows our photos at every opportunity, including to the visitors from back home in Strobnitz.

I’ve been asked to send best regards from Mr. and Mrs. Chief Postmaster and from Mrs. Head Watchman who visited us from Strobnitz. They were delighted with your pictures. “O Boze! Helenka!” they exclaimed.

The Czech words bring me a smile. Although Ludwig and his cousins were fluent speakers of Czech, the language was spoken only occasionally by visitors to our house. My mother revered Goethe and Schiller and the greats of German culture. For her, Czech was a lesser tongue. During the first year of her marriage, my mother had been the belle of the annual Fireman’s Ball in Strobnitz. Fanny warned her to learn Czech if she wanted to retain that position. With faith that her beauty would carry the day, my mother had refused to stoop so low. Sadly, the issue was never put to the test. The next year, my mother was pregnant. The following year, as Jews, my parents were no longer welcome at the village ball.

I smile also to see that my grandmother carries no grudges. She welcomes everyone from Strobnitz who comes to visit her. Clearly, Aryans could easily cross the border to Budweis, but for Jews, this was impossible. Fanny’s letter with its professional appellatives in the place of family names reminds me of the German cemetery that I visited in 1998 on my trip to meet Tini, our former family nanny. Tini took me to the cemetery to “introduce me” to her late husband. As her spoken words morphed into silent communing with the deceased, I wandered off. I was surprised to see that many of the tombstones were engraved with reminders of the professional status of the dead, and that many of these titles seemed less than noble callings. Chief Accountant. Director of Sanitation. Municipal Maintenance Controller.

Later, I asked Tini about immortalizing such titles in stone. Did she not view death as the great equalizer who makes all earthly titles null and void? Tini’s response was simple: a man is forever defined by what he makes of himself.

————

FOR MY GRANDFATHER JOSEF
, the inability to work threads its way through all of his letters. Despite the clear mark of the censor across the page, he slips in the comment that “
much has changed in the business world
.” It has been more than a year since he and my father had been forced to leave Strobnitz and the store that had been their livelihood, yet my grandfather is still smarting from the wound.

Aside from that single comment, my grandfather’s letter is uncharacteristically flat and somewhat disjointed.

My dear Children

After a lengthy silence we are coming again to send you a sign of life. Thank God we are all in good health and doing relatively well. Gretl’s parents wrote to us last week that everything is okay with you. We are happy to know that you are safe.

How is my little Helly-child, I long so much for you. If only I could see you, even for five minutes!

As far as business goes, much has changed here. Now in the winter you will also have a chance to recover a little, although there is lots to do even in the winter on a farm. I also have the happy hope that within a few years, you will get ahead through your hard work.

Otherwise, we don’t hear anything; everything is as it was. Write us another detailed letter, for it is always a joyful day when we hear from you. Best regards to you all.

Your faithful Papa

————

IN THE MARGIN ARE
a few lines from Arnold and Vera. The date indicates that Fanny and Josef had forwarded their letter of January 2 to Arnold and Vera in Prague. Perhaps this was because they were unable to purchase foreign stamps in Budweis. More likely, Arnold had advised against sending mail to countries hostile to Nazi interests. For a Jew to write frequently to France and the United States may well have been a risk that he chose to reserve only for himself.

January 8, 1940

My dear ones, reporting to you that everything is as it was. Without exception, we are all doing well, thank God, so that you need in no way be concerned for us. Unfortunately, we don’t get mail from you often enough, and I especially haven’t seen so much as a line from you for months, dear Edi. Best regards and kisses to you all from Vera and Arnold.

————

IN A LETTER TO THEIR SON
Otto who forwarded it to my father, Fanny and Josef openly confess their loneliness. In addition to being deprived of their children, they are in the grip of a severe winter that is chaining them indoors.

Dear child, are you often homesick for us? I think of you so much, and many nights I even dream of you. Still, everything must be borne calmly and patiently.

After a very long interval, we received your card. Was this the mail’s fault or yours? Well, we thank God that you are okay, which is all that matters. We too are well, but having a very severe winter that is keeping us shackled up in our room.

Is Fanny’s unnecessarily strong terminology of imprisonment another example of communication in a time of censorship? With increasingly
restrictive curfews for Jews, it is more than the cold, in all likelihood, that confines them to their quarters.

Fanny asks questions about Otto’s life in Paris and also makes observations about
“the Canadian contingent”
:

I remain amazed by the hard work of the dear children. Who would have sought such strengths in Gretl? The zeal with which she tackles her work is unbelievable. Indeed, she wrote that they would like to expand if only they had the money.

Apparently little Helen is growing into a sturdy little girl. She consumes her meals with a great appetite. Back home in Strobnitz we would have said she is laying the groundwork for becoming a farm wife.

Josef expresses regret that his family is no longer together, but he reveals no personal fear of what the future will bring.