Bella Eisenberg Shoah Foundation Testimony

Mic.

Okay. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Thanks. Sheryl?

Hold on.

OK. We'll do it now.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Thanks.

The date is October 31st 1995. We're interviewing Bella Eisenberg. The interviewer's name is Sheryl Tatelman and we're in Omaha, Nebraska and we're interviewing in English. My name is Sheryl Tatelman and I'm here in Omaha, Nebraska on October 31st 1995 interviewing Mrs. Bella Eisenberg. Okay could you tell us your name please?

My name is Bella Eisenberg.

Okay.

Do you want me to spell it?

Please.

E-I-S-E-N-B-R-G.

And your maiden name?

Schlechet. S-C-H-L-E-C-H-E-T

And when were you born?

I was born June 6, 1926 in Krakow, Poland.

And what kind of family did you have in Krakow?

Well I come from a quite orthodox family where our family consisted of parents, younger brothers, three years younger from me.

Three years younger than you?

Yes. And my grandmother lived with us for a long time. I think til they took her away. And of course we had an extended family of about 300 members which I don't think anyone survived.

So you came from a large extended family?

Extended family that's right.

And of your siblings it was just you and your brother?

My brother, yes.

And what was his name?

Yoshu.

Joseph?

Yoshu. Yes.

And you said he was three years younger than you were?

Yes.

And you said your family was an orthodox family and what ways did they show that?

Well it was very much Polish Orthodox with shabbat and synagogue and kosher and belonging to some kind of a sect, Orthodox sect with a rabbi. And you know Saturday my father would wear a shtreimel and change clothes and all those things that I don't know if you are familiar with it. It's like you see today probably in Brooklyn.

What was that like for you as a young girl growing up?

Well it was a, as far as I can remember, it was a good life. Probably. It was uhm... We were probably I would say in today's terms or not in today's terms in the terms of of Poland at that particular time either - [phone rings] don't answer it - either we were middle class or upper middle class.

And you were talking about what you did on shabbat. What was shabbat like?

Shabbat was a very Jewish observant home. My father Friday night would go to the synagogue and if he come back he would recite all the prayers, sing zemirots and very observant. very observant. No money, no doing anything that was against the religion.

Was that a good, a special time in the family?

Yes yes it was a special time because that was the quiet time. It's like observance of holiday in Orthodox homes not in today's times.

What about the relationship between you and your brother? What kind of relationship did you have?

You know it's very sad and I really don't even cannot bring myself to talk about it but for some reason it's just I spaced it out completely and I don't even remember my brother's face and if you ask me how I played with him and what I said to him I just totally forgot or wanted to forget or something happened there in my psyche that is so painful that I don't want to remember it and it's the same thing with my father. It's just the first face is very murky. I don't remember anything he said to me. I don't remember his voice. I vaguely remember his face and I think again must be the same thing that I consciously or not try to forget.

And you said your grandmother lived with you.

Umm-hmm.

What kind of a woman was she?

A nice woman. I think I probably benefited not knowing because I was very young. I probably benefited very much by being with my grandmother, extended family, somebody who probably just like today spoiled children and loved them.

And you said that your family was Orthodox. Did you live in a Jewish neighborhood?

Yes, I lived in a very Jewish neighborhood. It's kind of self-proclaimed ghetto so to speak and even today people go and visit those neighborhoods because it was mostly populated by Jewish people. The only gentiles that I knew were the ones who either a Shabbos goy or the one who was I don't know how you call it concierge or somebody who cleans the house because we lived in high-rise apartments not like New York but they were five, six stories high. So the only non-Jews that I knew were those non-Jews and they were certainly inferior to us and maybe that's why we always felt that we are superior to the nonJews to the goyim so to speak because we didn't have much relationship with the other non-Jews, with the Christians who perhaps were better educated or professional people. So I grew up with a great superiority complex almost. I always felt and I was taught that I'm better than the person and I could see it that I was better.

So it sounds like you were proud to be Jewish.

Yeah, very much so, very much so. But of course those are just memories of childhood.

Do you remember your friends in the community did you go to a school with other Jewish children or were they gentile children?

Yes, no it was a public school but attended by I would say 99.9 percent of Jews because it was in a Jewish neighborhood and I'm sure I had friends and I had I played and just like any young child does til I was 13 years old and as I mentioned you know here in Omaha I have a friend that we spent our childhood together. We lived in the same house and we didn't know about each other for 10 years.

Did you ever experience any anti-Semitism before the war?

Yes, yes definitely. Even as as much as I look blonde and I had braids and certainly people would not point finger at me thinking the Jews are dark and predominantly. I did. If I just moved away a little bit from my neighborhood I would. Stones were thrown at me and I would call Zhyd which means very unpleasant expression of Jew.

Any other things that you remember from before the war of anti-Semitism?

No, that's mostly because I have lived in a very secure environment. I lived in a Jewish neighborhood. I went to a school with all Jews. I knew that there is great anti-Semitism. I heard my parents talking about it. I knew that my father would be very insecure to get away from our self-proclaimed ghetto going into the non-Jewish neighborhood because he would be threatened. He had a little beard and that immediately shown that he's a Jew because non-Jews did not grow beard. So I knew very much about anti-Semitism and I feel very uncomfortable about the Poles even today. I don't like to, I speak the language very well but I don't like to speak it.

You said that your father had a beard and he was observant. What kind of business did he do?

My father was a businessman and we had a business in the city, textiles.

So did he work with the Gentile population?

Yes, Gentile, yes. Just like today, Gentiles would come and buy from the Jews, because it was better service, maybe less expensive. He didn't like it but was a necessity.

So he dealt with the Gentiles only in that respect.

Yes, and Jews also. I don't know what it was the percentage Jews versus non-Jews but I know that there were non-Jews also coming.

What kind of child do you think you were before the war?

Probably happy, secured, fairly intelligent. You know just, I don't know how average.

And when did you start to get the idea that things were becoming more dangerous for you or your family?

I didn't know anything about it. I knew it only from one day to another.

What do you mean by that?

When Hitler crossed the border, went to Danzig, from Danzig to the Gdynia, start the war in September 1939.

It came very suddenly to you.

Very suddenly, yes.

And then what happened to you personally at that time?

Well, it disrupted our lives immediately from one day to another. From one day you are 13 years old and I was 13 years old and I became a survivor, trying to survive, trying to help my family. Eventually, after a few days, I think after a week or 10 days, the Germans occupied Krakow and immediately started pogroms and beating up Jews and taking them away. And very quickly, you realized what cruelty is and was a very, very unhappy awakening.

So the Germans came into Krakow and did they come into this neighborhood where you were living?

Oh yeah, they came and they started immediately taking people away and my father was taken away very soon. I don't know how quickly, very soon after they occupied Krakow.

Were you there when he was taken away?

Yeah.

Was he taken from your home?

Yeah, from my home.

Can you tell us what happened?

Well, they just came and you know at that time we didn't know where they are taking them. We thought, well, all men will be taken away and go to work and mothers and childrens will be saved. So it was tragic, but we didn't think for a minute that it will be a, uh, uh ... disappearance, permanent disappearance, not knowing where that person is and where they went and where he's buried and what happened. It was such a traumatic parting that even today it affects me. Every time I say goodbye, I think it's forever.

What, were you able to talk to him before he left at all?

If I did, I don't know. I told you I just don't. Unfortunately, those two people were just completely taken off the map of my brain.

And you said that it happened soon after the Germans came. Do you remember how long?

Very soon, maybe a week, maybe a day they came and start taking the men away, start tearing the beards out from people's faces, cutting the beards, letting them crawl, demeaning them.

So this happened in the street?

Yeah, they would take them from the homes and just do that, spit on them, just completely dehumanizing them.

And so the first thing that happened to your family was that your father was taken.

Yeah.

And then your family didn't really understand what was going to happen next, is that?

No.

You didn't.

But it changed immediately. First of all, it was a war and we didn't have enough food, so we had to somehow go and try to find some food for the family. The second was the demeaning and fear of your life because of the Germans and the persecution of only Jews immediately. I don't know how quickly, but we had to wear armbands with David Star to show that we are Jews, to be identified as Jews. And we immediately didn't have access to any public transportation. We had to sit in certain places, walk in certain places, get food in certain places. So to combine the tragedy of war and the tragedy of prosecution I think was just too much for one to digest, you know, psychologically.

How did your family make it through that time? The business was closed at this time? Your father's business?

Oh yes, of course, immediately. And I was not allowed to return to school.

So how did you get food?

Well, you know, standing all night long in lines, in a bakery to try to get food and sometimes you would stay the whole night and by the time it was your turn, there was no bread left. Probably some black marketeering, probably we had some money and were able to pay for certain things and this is how we survived.

Then and your grandmother and your mother and your brother were all still with you at that time?

Yes.

And at some point you had to move from that house?

Yes, we had to move and we had to move to, first we moved to a small town outside Krakow and lived with a Polish family and then from there you know it was just kind of systematically done. And when people today think in terms, why didn't you resist? Of course, no one can understand, even if you describe it in the best of language, one cannot understand. It was done in such a systematic way that you didn't know from one time to another what will happen. First they told us we cannot live anymore in the city, so we went to a small town, suburbs of Krakow. Then from the suburbs they took us to the ghetto and of course nobody could ever imagine what will happen and even today is beyond comprehension and beyond words, the horror what happened. But it was so systematically done and you know human beings had always, there is a little optimism even so as pessimistic as you might be and see what's happening you know in your own life. You think well maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe going to the ghetto, this is the end of it. But it wasn't the end, it was never the end. It was the end when it was the end of the Nazis.

So you left your house where you had grown up and you went to this house in the suburbs and how did you convince these Polish people to let you live there?

We paid them their money.

And was it?

They benefited, they always benefited by Jews. They always, even today they benefit by Jews because today Jews are coming back to Poland to seek out at least the graves. They go to Auschwitz and again the Poles benefit by it.

Was it dangerous for you to be living with a Polish family?

Well it was dangerous because you never knew when the, it wasn't so dangerous from the Poles as much as was dangerous from the Germans. They would move around seeking Jews out and then they would take them someplace away.

And you said that your family was taken to the ghetto, was that by the Germans? By the Poles?

Well it was a edict that was written. To all the Jews, 'Alles Juden', you know, this is this time all Jews have to leave. It wasn't something done knocking on the door and say you have seen edicts in many places written down and you knew that you have to confront, conform because otherwise they would say that you pay with your life. So the same thing happened in the suburbs and we went, we had to go to the ghetto.

And you got to the ghetto, how did you find a place to live within the ghetto?

Oh it was horrible. We we just left three, four families in two rooms. We shared with other strangers.

And were you assigned those rooms?

Sometimes you were assigned and sometimes you just - you were just taking it by, by shared willpower. You were like squatters. You just went and there was no else place to go and you just said here I am. You have to take me in.

And what kind of a place did you live inside the ghetto?

I lived in a in a two room apartment with with four other families sharing it.

And did you do any kind of work or go to school at that time?

Yeah we worked. We were going out from the ghetto groups of people and I was assigned cleaning a German's apartment and that's what I did, cleaning.

And do you remember how you were assigned? Was it by the Judenrat or the Germans?

Probably by the - Combined. Because you know the Judenrat was working under the Germans.

And were you paid for this work?

No.

And how did you get food?

Probably, I imagine that we still had some money or maybe they were assigned some stores. I don't know but I I know that we still had some money or maybe some gold pieces that we would exchange for for food.

And was your mother and your brother and your grandmother were still with you at that time?

Yes, yes we all lived together. Then my grandmother was taken. One day there was a - How you call it? They were taking, taking old people out. We were all standing on a appell place [appellplatz] and at that time they would just choose old people. Supposedly take them someplace for work or whatever they told us. And they took away my grandmother. And the irony of it and the cruelty of it was that sometimes there would be postcard sent from certain people that they are fine and wherever they are, they are comfortable and well treated. And that contributed to it that people didn't fight because well you know we'll see you soon again. Maybe the war will be over or some better things happen or maybe you will join us. So when my grandmother left I remember at least my mother told me she gave her some money and she gave her some other things and and some jewelry and so that wherever she is she will be able to take care of herself. But she never returned.

Do you remember when that was that your grandmother was taken?

No, one of the years in Plaszów, I don't remember.

Or how long you had been there?

No, I don't remember.

And you were mentioning before the postcards. Did you ever receive a postcard?

No, but I knew of people who did.

And what kinds of things did the postcards say?

Well exactly as I told you. We are comfortable, we are working, the conditions are pretty fair and to hope to see you soon. And I think that was kind of a psychological warfare because then people would not resist.

At that time in the ghetto were there a lot of people taken?

Yes, there were every so often which they would take people out and send them out, would be a transport.

Do you remember how often?

At one time there were only young people and at that time a couple of my friends went. I remember distinctly. And it was just arbitrarily, you know, you, you, you.

So how did they - ?

Whomever they choose.

People were walking down the street, or?

No, we would stand, it would be again an edict. All everybody of ages blah blah blah please come to this place and because whatever reason they would give. And those people like probably they would say every woman or every man or all the people who are between 40 and 60 or so please come. And and everybody would show up, of course, because we didn't know. We knew that there was cruelty but to what extent. At that time nobody knew that there are death factories.

So your friends were taken and then your grandmother?

At one time my friends, at one time there were edicts that young people from 14 to 25 and the bloom of the rose everybody went. Most beautiful people, talented.

And how long did you stay in that ghetto? This was in the ghetto in Krakow?

Yes, Podgorze.

And how long did you stay there?

You know I don't know exactly. Maybe a year, maybe two years. It's hard to know. It was eternity I'm sure.

Do you remember this, the time of year when you left or the the year when you left?

I don't remember the time of the year when I went there, the time of the year. But I think I remember being there during the winter.

Did you have anything to heat the homes? Did you have any fuel?

Hardly.

So you were, you stayed there you said one or two years and then you were taken as well with your family?

No. Then they closed the ghetto. You know they have taken enough people out and maybe the factory is working over time. And then they created a concentration camp in Plaszów. And it was just also outskirts of Europe, of Poland.

And then they... So, you stayed in in the ghetto until

until the end

they closed it.

Yes.

And you were transported with your family, with your mother and your brother to Plaszów.

Yeah.

And when, you don't remember exactly when this was, but do you remember how old you were?

Well maybe 15, maybe about 15, 16, something like that.

And how far away was it from where you had been

Very close, very close.

So how did they transport everyone?

Walking.

They walked; you walked. And when got there, what was the life like there?

Well it was a concentration camp. It was electrified fences, Germans, lots of SS soldiers, the commander of the camp. And every day there were people taken out, either shot or taken out with the transport someplace going. We didn't know where. By then, I think we start having idea. Maybe people came from someplace else because always new people would arrive. And maybe they knew something because there was a vague idea that there someplace are those death factories, crematorias.

When you were in this camp Plaszów, what kind of work were you doing there?

I was working in the kitchen, I was working on the roads, I would go out and work in factories, all kind of work, whatever it was they designated. We would, every morning we would have to stand on the appellplatz and every morning they would make a segregation. The sick and the old would be taken away and the rest would be assigned to work.

And how many people were in that camp? Do you have an idea?

Many, many was a very big camp.

And your mother was still with you at this time?

Yeah, my mother was with me through all those years in camps. And I think I told you when we were chatting that in the beginning of the war, from one day to another, I became so grown up, I didn't feel like calling my mother - mother. And so I called her an endearing name actually, and Polish mother is mamusha. So I would take the ma away and I would call her musha. Later on it became Muha and it was really life-saving because most of the time only the people who are very close to us would know that this is my mother. If they would know that this is my mother, they certainly would separate us. So no one knew that she was my mother and that was the saving grace that we could remain together through all those years.

Do you think having her with you helped you to survive?

Very much so tremendously. I know that being together with her wisdom and my youth, I always think that if we were allowed only, because you know living, surviving was not up to us, it was up to them. So as long as they allow us to live, we knew how to survive because of my mother's age and my youth and health that we were able to survive.

This is tape two with Mrs. Bella Eisenberg. You were saying that you were in the camp in Plaszow with your mother, and that the two of you together helped each other. In what kinds of ways did you help each other?

Physical. I was young, I probably could much easier get food than my mother. Wisdom of my mother, being the nurturing person. Optimistic, always believing that she will live through. On a daily basis, just being there for each other.

You said your brother was also in this camp. Did you see him from day to day?

Once in a while he was in a men's camp.

How often did you see him?

Not too often, once we got to the camp. Rarely, really. Just once in a while I would get permission to go to see him. Just because I was young and somebody would help me out for some reason or other to get to the male camp and see my brother wasn't very often.

What kinds of ways would you get there? People would do you a favor you said?

Yeah, and take me over there.

How far was it?

Just walking distance, just across the street.

How many times do you think you saw him while he was in the camp?

Maybe two, three times, very painful. It was painful to see him? Very painful because he was so young. He was alone. He was hungry, cold.

He was three years younger than you were.

Yeah.

How old do you think he was at that time?

Around 12, 13. Emaciated by then.

Did he have any people that he knew with him?

I don't think so. I don't know.

It sounds like it was difficult for you because there wasn't anything you could do to help him.

That's right.

When was the last time you saw him?

Sometime before he was killed. I don't remember.

Did you, were you there when he was killed, or you...?

Yes.

Oh, you were? And his mother was there too. And what, how, why was he?

Because he was young.

Why was it that you and your mother were there when you were in the women's side?

Because we were in the same camp and we heard that they are bringing people to shoot. And my brother was among them.

And so you saw him being shot?

Almost.

Did your mother say anything to you at that time?

You know, it's too painful to talk about it, really. Just much too painful. There are certain things I will not discuss with you because they are too painful. And no one will understand.

So you and your mother remained in the camp together?

Yes.

And how much longer were you there?

I don't exactly know how much longer, but constantly there were transports. There was segregation and transport taken out. And by then we had a fair idea that something terrible is happening in other camps because Plaszow didn't have a crematorium. They were shooting people instead of burning them. And so we avoided going with the transport. And at one time we were hidden in a sewer for two days, my mother and I, because we didn't want to go with the transport. Finally, we had to because it was the last transport, so to speak. And we knew that we are going to Auschwitz, but there was no way that we could do anything about it. Hide or the runaway, we just had to go. We got on the wire train in the middle of the night. We arrived in Auschwitz seeing the burning crematoriums.

How long was the train ride?

It's very short from Krakow, very short. That's probably an hour ride, maybe 60 miles. The irony of it was that I had an uncle who lived in Auschwitz, the Polish name was Oświęcim, and I would go once in a while, summer vacation, to visit. And it was the irony.

When you arrived in Auschwitz, you said it was at night?

Yes.

Do you remember what time of year it was? Was it cold or hot?

I think maybe it was fall.

And what happened then when you first arrived?

We were standing and waiting for dawn, like Elie Wiesel said, night and dawn, was exactly what he said. And then we had to go to a big place. We had to undress. And we had to stand in front of Dr. Mengele for segregation here and there.

How long did all that take?

Forever.

Were you afraid? Did you understand what was going on?

Yes. Because I have seen what was happening. I have heard the screams. I have seen the children taken out from mother's arms. And I was terribly at that time I thought, I wonder if this is the time when my mother and I will be separated.

Did you do anything that helped you stay with your mother?

No, there was nothing we could do. We just stayed in line, and one after the other. And I hope for the good graces.

You said that you heard screams even when you first arrived.

Umm hmm.

So that you knew that this place was very different.

Oh, I knew. I think I knew probably before. Maybe not exactly, of course. But we knew that it was something terrible is happening.

And you and your mother, did you stay together in the line?

Yes.

And you approached Dr. Mengele?

As a matter of fact, I was stopped because I had appendicitis. Appendix moved when I was a little child. So I remember vividly. He stopped me and looked at me. And he let me go because I still was young. And my mother was a young woman. She was a good-looking, good figure. And I think that was also the reason that he let her go. She still could work. It didn't matter so much for him. It was a whimsy because he knew eventually he would kill everybody. So there was a grace of a few days, a few months.

How old would your mother have been at that time?

Well, I think she was 22 or 24 years older from me. So about 40 years. I thought at that time that she was very old, like we all do when we were children.

Were you and your mother assigned to the same barracks?

Yes.

And how many people were in the barracks?

Many. First we went to Birkenau. And then for some reason they took us. There was also in Auschwitz a place for visiting dignitaries, for Red Cross, that they showed how people lived in brick houses. Of course, as prisoners. But it was a better picture than Birkenau. Also the same treatment we were getting as the people in Birkenau. But at least we lived in those brick houses. And for whatever reason we were chosen to go there. We always stood together so that when they choose people, they choose one, two, three, and we would be together. And we were going out every morning to work.

Even when you were in those brick houses?

Yeah. Yeah. Every morning we would go out and it was work that you knew for destruction of the human life and human spirit because it was such an unnecessary work.

Like what kind of work?

Like taking some mud from one place and putting it on the other place. It was terribly dehumanizing and difficult. No food, cold. Very cold winter months in Poland.

So you said you thought it was fall when you came there and then became winter.

Yeah, umm hmm, umm hmm.

You said that you were in an area of the camp where people could come and visit. Did you ever see people from the Red Cross?

No. No, but I heard. I heard that that's why those places are designated for people who come.

And you also said that for a while you were in Birkenau.

Yeah.

Was that before you were in the brick houses?

Before, yes.

And how long were you there?

I don't know. Several months, year. I cannot imagine that anybody would know dates. You know, it's beyond me, but some people have that capacity to remember dates. I didn't want to remember anything. As a matter of fact, I always felt that my answer to the whole Holocaust is silence. And I just decided to say a little bit about it. Of course I don't bear my soul, you understand, with you or with anyone, or not even with my son, my family. There are certain things that only the heart knows and they will go to grave with me and that is fine. Sometimes my son resents that I don't sit down and talk to him about camp. But he has to understand that my answer to it is silence.

So it sounds like you were in a few different places within Auschwitz.

Two. Two different places.

First in Birkenau and then in the brick houses, which were in Auschwitz.

Yes.

And during all this time you were doing the kinds of work you described?

Yes. Maybe I worked also in a factory. I think I worked in a factory also. Yeah, I think I worked in a factory.

Do you remember what they were producing in that factory?

No, I don't remember. I'm trying to remember. But I remember that it was an enclosure, so it must have been some kind of a factory. Maybe munition, something like that.

Would you have to walk a long ways to do the work?

Yes, yes. Very cold. We walked in the shoes that we called them Holland shoes, you know, without a heel. Wooden shoes. Wooden clogs.

What was a day like for you in the camp?

What was... It was terribly difficult. We would get up very early in the morning and just have a cup of black coffee and maybe a piece of bread. And for that, on that diet we would go and work very hard physically in cold weather. There would be noon time and we would get a little soup. And then go back to work under the overseeing of German women who were so-called Aufseherin and men being beaten, whipped for no reason. And then back to camp. And often, after being back in camp, we would get a little soup. We would be called again for segregation. And again, many of the people that we would know would be taken away and never seen again. And the oven was burning day and night. And there was always the stench of burnt bodies.

While you were in the camp, did you have any sense of Jewish time or of Judaism? Would you know if it was a Jewish holiday or... Maybe my mother did.

You know, I wasn't... I was just too young to be so concerned before the war to be concerned about after being in camp, if they had holidays. And I'm sure that they were, because there were people who remembered holidays, who were very pious even in camp, who, some of them were intellectuals who would recite poetry or talk about books from memory. There were so many different people, and everybody tried to survive emotionally the best they could after going through a day of being victimized and demeaned. And so there was still certain pride in people. When they had to live a time for themselves, it's a quiet time, it's a peaceful time to be a human being and share with others.

Were the other people who were with you, working with you, were they mostly Polish Jews? Were there other people?

No, no, they were Hungarian, Romanian, German, they were Jews from all over, from Holland, Germany, yeah, from all over.

Were you able to speak with them in Yiddish and German?

Yeah, we always had... There was, usually when somebody would talk about a book or recite poetry or you know - they would do it in their language. And whoever understood the language -we would try to get closer if they would be interested to listen to it. But there was not much interchange. There was always the concern about, where will I get something to eat, or will I be segregated tomorrow and go to deaths, to death? Because the death was there just a few steps away.

You were in Auschwitz for a certain amount of time, and then did you leave Auschwitz before the war ended?

Yes, we left Auschwitz probably shortly before the war ended, I imagine. And they took us on trains. The crematoria was working over time. They couldn't kill us all. It was just physically impossible. The logistic weren't there. And so they had to do something with those prisoners, and they thought they might be still able to work. And we did. They took us to... We went to certain Malchow... I don't remember the camps, but I remember working in a munition factory. And I remember living not far from Dresden, in a camp, where we work in a munition factory. I remember seeing Dresden being burned, and what a joy it was for all of us.

What did you think when you were taken from Auschwitz?

I don't know. I think we... I think we thought that is better. Whatever it is, it's not seeing every day the people going to their death and seeing the chimney burning, bulging with fire. I think that probably was better.

So it was in some ways hopeful for you?

Yeah.

During that time, did you think you would survive?

No. On a certain level, I thought I would survive, because that's human nature. On another, I did not. I couldn't imagine that I would be able to survive when so many died. And also, by then I was emaciated, and so was my mother. We didn't have food for so many years.

When you went to the next camp after you went to Auschwitz, was the work easier for you?

What was easier, I assume, in thinking about it, I think it was that there was no crematorium. That if we die, we'll die a natural death, or we will be shot for some reason or another. But we won't be just at random taken and burned or gassed.

So it didn't feel as dangerous?

You know, it's very difficult to say, even in that respect, even so that I don't remember my feelings at that particular time. But to think about it today, I just assume that it was much easier, because you didn't have that death threatened every minute of your life. That is one reason. The other one, we were just too emaciated to even think. The only think we did was where to get another piece of bread, another crumb. And that was all that was consuming us. It wasn't, my God, I will live, and I will be happy, and I will marry and have children. That's the only thing that consumed us, is how to get that raw potato from the field, or steal something.

What kinds of ways were you able to get food?

Stealing, probably. And we got some food from the camp, and then we would run in the field and grab a potato, a raw potato and eat it, or a raw vegetable. So, it's the only way.

Were you in that camp near Dresden for the rest of the war?

No. From there, we moved to, I moved with my mother to Ravensbrück. And Ravensbrück was a concentration camp that was formed before the war. It was for the German resistance, women only. And we went to that camp, and by then we both were very ill, and it just didn't matter whatever happens, happens.

Ill in what way?

There was just not enough physical strength. I don't think emotional, because there were no emotions anymore left, but I don't think that there was any more physical strength to fight, to want to live even. As a matter of fact, I went for a memorial service this year to Ravensbrück, and I was walking around, and I even was quoted for some reason. I just didn't believe that I was alive. I was walking in the camp thinking to myself, that's not me. I mean, that must be my ghost. It's unbelievable and improbable that I'm alive walking here in the camp, but I was so ill and desperate.

You mean when you came back?

Yeah, when I came back. I thought through the whole time that it's my ghost. It was a very, very strange feeling. It was like out of my being.

You were so sick at that time. What was life like then for you? How did you make it through that time?

I really don't know. That's why I was, that was such a, I went back to Auschwitz, and I didn't have that feeling for some reason. But in Ravensbrück I did. I just thought that that is not me. It couldn't be those two people being there and now being

What kinds of things were you doing in Ravensbrück?

Nothing. We were just, they realized we were just too ill to do anything.

Were you in some kind of infirmary?

No, we were just in a big barrack, and you got up in the morning and next to you was a corpse.

And you said that this camp had been built for the German resistance?

Yes, it was from before the war.

Were there still people who were in the resistance in the camp?

Yes, there were German, no. I don't know if they were, no. I doubt it, but I don't know. But there were German women, there were Polish women, there were women from all over Europe. In this camp. But there also was a crematorium.

Was it a large camp?

Yeah, it was a good size.

Of course, I didn't know at that time. But when I went back and I saw the physical makeup of that camp, I couldn't believe it. How large it was.

Was there anything different about it because it was only women?

No, not for us.

I assume it was for other prisoners who were there longer. We were there towards the end, and for us it didn't make any difference. It was, at that time probably, it was just a survival. It was towards the end of the war, and the Germans knew that they were going to lose the war. So they just didn't care that much. Most of the soldiers that took care of us were old Wehrmacht soldiers, not even young SS men, because they were all going towards being killed, fortunately, and only the old soldiers would take care of us.

And before that, when you were in Auschwitz and the other camps, it was always the SS?

Oh yeah, strong. Women and men. The women were just as cruel as men. If we think women will be more nurturing and understanding. [shakes head] No. When I was now in Ravensbrück, I could see it so much more, and maybe think about it clearly. I saw some homes, permanent homes around the camp, and as I was walking, I would think to myself, imagine being in camp, killing people, seeing those prisoners, going back home to your family, sitting down to dinner, and singing a lullaby to your child, where in the morning you killed a child. It's just beyond comprehension, beyond words. That's why it's so difficult to talk about it, because it's beyond human expression. And to think that today, children of those evil people live, and you wonder if it's genetic or environment.

Did you ever have contact with the people, the civilians, that lived around the camps? around the camps?

[shakes head] No.

When you were marching, did you ever see them?

Well, we would see them, and they would just look at us. I rarely got any help. After Ravensbrück, we started walking. It was a death march, and I think it's well documented.

Do you know how many of you were walking from Ravensbrück?

Many, many, many.

Thousands or hundreds?

I would say thousands, really. We would sleep in the fields, and that was cold. It was March, April, the bad times. And just run in the field, and really being shot at, and trying to steal that potato.

Being shot at by whom?

By the Germans, because you were supposed to be with the group. And once you deviated from the group, you run to the field, because you saw a field of potatoes. They would shoot at you.

And were these the same older Wehrmacht people that were marching with you? And they were the ones who were shooting?

Yes.

Did you ever, at that time, have contact with any of the civilians or people that farmers or anything like that?

No, no, no. Never had any contacts. I didn't, personally, I don't know. And my mother was very ill. And a friend and I would just almost carry her. I still had some strength. And she was really towards the end of her resistance.

It's good that you have some plans for tonight, so be out with some friends.

This is tape number three with Mrs. Bella Eisenberg. You were talking about you and your mother were on a death march, and you said there was someone else or not another friend with you?

There were some people that, you know, we get to know when you have such a close proximity, and one helps the other, and they were very helpful to my mother. My mother was the oldest person. There were very few mothers.

Did they know she was your mother?

Yeah, by then, probably very close friends, close proximity friends would know that is my mother. only the larger population didn't.

In what kinds of ways did you and these other friends help each other?

By sharing, by helping each other. One couldn't walk, one would give a hand. That was the extent, and that was very important.

Were they people that were also Polish Jews, or not necessarily?

Not necessarily. One made friendship from necessity with anybody who wanted to be a friend.

Did you trust them? Were you able?

Yes, probably.

Did you ever see any of those people after the war?

No.

Do you remember how long you were marching?

For weeks, weeks. I know that for weeks.

Do you know where you were marching?

Around Saxony, around Leipzig, Danzig, Frankfurt, Oder. That was the place, those places Saxony where the Russians occupied after the war. That was the east side of Germany.

You had said that there were thousands, probably, of people who started from Ravensbruck.

Not necessarily. Some of them came from other camps.

Do you know where they came from?

No, but they were not only from Ravensbruck. They were from different camps.

Do you know how many survived the march?

No. Not many, I'm sure.

Were you on this march when you were liberated?

Yes, we were on the march. One day we walked into a village as a group, again, with soldiers. We saw white flags. The soldiers had seen white flags. They started running away. The German soldiers? Yes, and suddenly we thought, oh my God, maybe this is the end. We were walking around not knowing what to do with ourselves. It was such an incredible experience, suddenly being free and being able to walk wherever you want to. I don't think probably we wanted to go anyplace. We were so conditioned. We met a Polish man who worked in, you know, there were many Poles taken from Poland to work in German factories. They weren't slave workers, but they were almost like, it wasn't like. Actually, they might have been slave workers, you think of workers, but they weren't concentration camps. He told us to come to his home and he shared with us some food. I remember baked potatoes, boiled potatoes. You know, that was very important that we didn't have immediately good food to eat, because so many died after the war, being liberated and immediately getting that rich food. And at that time, people didn't realize that if you were starving for five years, you cannot start eating normal food like chocolate or butter. And quite a few people died after the war because of improper nourishment. So it was very fortunate that we were at that farmer's place for, I don't know, maybe several days. So we got accustomed to eating something solid.

Were you liberated by the American Troops?

Yes, the Americans were there the first 24 hours or 48 hours. And they were the one because they were so kind and wanted to give food to the prisoners. And then after the Americans left, Russian soldiers arrived and they occupied the part of Germany.

How long were you there while the Russians were there?

Well, after, I don't know, a week or two months, we just wanted to go back home. We thought that going home to our homes, first of all, possibly we will get back our apartments and we will be accepted as citizens of that country. We will be welcomed because we survived such atrocities. And so we slowly make our ways. And also we thought that if whoever survived from the family will be there. And we slowly made our way by train, hitchhiking, whichever mode of transportation there was, sometimes walking back to Krakow. But when we arrived, nobody was waiting for us. Nobody was interested in us. I think that was my greatest disappointment. And I remember the first night we slept on the benches of the rail station because there was no one to give a helping hand. And nobody returned from our family. And after six months and a couple pogroms, because the Poles, we still were persona non grata in Poland. They didn't want any Jews in Poland. They didn't want to return anything that they had taken from us. We ironically had to go back to Germany because they were forming camps for refugees. And there was a possibility of emigrating someplace.

You went to Krakow. That was with your mother?

Yes, yes.

And when you say no one from your family survived, do you mean your extended family, all the cousins?

Yeah, and yeah, all my cousins. I think there may be a couple cousins in Israel. I think second cousins. But the immediate family, like aunts, uncles, first cousins.

Did you meet anyone that you had known before the war, when you were in Krakow?

Maybe one person, two people, yeah.

Did you go back to the apartment where you had lived?

I didn't go to the apartment. I went to the street and looked at the apartment, but I did not go back. I didn't want to see it. I knew there is no hope of getting it back, and there was no hope of retrieving anything. And it was also dangerous. We knew that there were shooting people who demanded their possessions to be returned.

When you say 'they' -?

The Poles.

The Polish.

The Poles, yeah.

The people who had taken your things?

Yes, especially in small towns. Where there is such a conspiracy of silence.

Where did you stay during that time?

We had a little room apartment where we stayed, and it was very difficult because we didn't have any money. And so I think by then maybe already there was forming a Joint or something like that where we would get a little soup and were able to exist.

Did you have contact with other people who had survived?

Yes, we did have contact with other people, yes. But most of them slowly left because we realized that there is no future for us in Poland.

What made you realize that?

The pogroms.

And what was happening with the pogroms? .

Physically we were abused. Beg your pardon?

What was happening with the pogroms?

Well, they were killing Jews, they were beating them up. They, if somebody came to retrieve some of their possessions, they would look at them and would say, "Ah, you are still alive!" So those were the greetings.

You went back to Germany, you said. How did you go back and how did you know where to go?

It's irony really. It was very difficult to go back because slowly the borders were being closed so we had to be smuggled through the Carpathian mountains. Went back to Czechoslovakia, to Bratislava, and in Bratislava they were forming, already the Israelis would come and they were forming groups to take to Germany to displaced person camps. And from there the young people were going to Israel. And so we didn't know exactly what will happen, but we knew that we have to go someplace and to be able to emigrate because there was no life for us in Poland, no possibility to stay. And really I don't think we would have ever wanted to stay there. It was just like a graveyard. It was just too painful to stay in a country where you have always been secondclass citizen and then killing fields.

You were in a DP camp. Where was the DP camp?

DP camp was about 60 kilometers from Munich. Gabersee, in Wasserburg was again ironic. It used to be insane asylum. And they formed a camp there and there were still some remnants of the people who were very quiet but were derranged. And I think most of the inmates were sent to gas chambers because, you know, he also killed the infirms and mentally derailed people. So it was an insane asylum, but a very beautiful place in the midst of a forest. It was very lovely and very beneficial for us to be in such a peaceful place and physically beautiful place. I think that was very good for us.

[sneezes] Excuse me.

Gesundheit.

Were there doctors there or people that were able to care for you?

Yes, there were some doctors that were doctors prior to the war that also were refugees and wanted to emigrate. And there was an infirmary and we lived, people lived two -two families to one room or three families. But it was very inhuman, truly, after five years of concentration camp, to be again in a camp situation except we were free. But we still had to wait in the morning for the cup of coffee and for the soup and was regretful. It was a very sad experience. The only thing was that we were free and we knew that eventually we will emigrate. We had enough to eat, even so that was given by Joint. And I was young, so I knew now really there is future. Then I met my husband and he was young and I was young and we faced the future together and were very optimistic.

How did you meet your husband?

Just by circumstance, just like everybody else walking on the street and looking at each other and liking each other and the looks and then getting to know each other.

And he was also living in a DP camp at that time?

Yes, he came not long after I did. He also came because he came from Hungary. He was born in Budapest. And he came to the camp because he wanted to emigrate. And so he settled there. They sent him. You know, again, it was arbitrarily done. You didn't choose your camp. They say, this is where you can go. There is still someplace there. And we met there?

And were you married in the camp?

Yes, yes.

Was there a rabbi?

Yeah, Rabbi came, I think, from Munich. There were many marriages because everybody was young and everybody knew that we'll emigrate. And it's just such a miracle that a human being kind of rejuvenates and gets back to emotions even after they were just totally deprived of any. And you fall in love and you marry, you have children, and you try to live. Somehow I always felt that if I had it in me, I know if I survive, I will again be what I wanted to be, a decent human being.

Did you and your husband know that you wanted to emigrate to the United States?

Yes, I think that was our first destination. We wanted to come to the United States. We have not been brought up in a zionistic environment because, you know, Hasidism were not. So Israel didn't mean that much to us as to people who have been.

So your family was actually a Hasidic family?

Yes, yes, yes. And so was my husband, surprisingly. We come from different countries, but we had the same environment. We come from the same environment, both of us.

And was your family from a certain sect of the Hasidim?

I think so. My son tells me that we were somehow Bobova, Rebbe, descendant or followers, I don't know.

But at that time when you were in the DP camp, your goal was to come to the United States?

Yeah, that's right.

Was it difficult to do that?

Well, we had to wait five- four years.

In the DP camp?

Yeah, it was very difficult, very difficult. It was such a waste, such a terrible waste, a waste of intellect, strength, youth.

How old were you at that time when you got to the DP camp?

I was 18 when I was liberated, and then, you know it's kind of ten years of my life were taken away, really.

And you were married, how old were you when you were married?

How old was I? 22.

And you emigrated soon after?

I think maybe a year later, something like that.

And how was it? You came from Europe. Did you come directly to Omaha?

Yes. You know, again, in my life I didn't have many choices. Again, it was arbitrarily done because we didn't have any family in the United States. If people had family, they had choices. Perhaps they would like to join the family or the family would like to have them. In our case, we didn't have any family, so the village was chosen for us, where to go. And Omaha community were able to help that number of refugees, and so they received that number of refugees. So there came quite a few families here. I don't know exactly, maybe 20 families, maybe 25 families.

How did the Jewish community here treat you?

I would say, from my own experience, very well. I think we were given the opportunity to work, we were given apartments to live, and from then it was our life, the way we wanted to lead. It was very difficult for the community who wanted to befriend us because we couldn't speak the language. And it was very difficult. Of course, we didn't have any money. So now, in retrospect, I understand it much better. And also, most of us, down deep, resented it terribly, that we were the chosen ones to spend our youth in camps, and here the young people were spared. Not that we wished them, but it was very deep resentment.

Were people able to hear about your story? Were people asking you what had happened?

You know, it took about a year or year and a half til we could speak. So that was first. And by then, I don't know, I never wanted to speak, so I just didn't, I cannot be a judge. I wasn't interested to share my experience with anybody else because it's beyond comprehension. It's beyond comprehension for me, who have experienced it. How do I think I can tell the story to somebody else, to a stranger? It's very personal, it's very painful, and it's too deep to share it with somebody else, with a stranger. So I don't know. Maybe people who wanted to talk and were unable. Actually, I must tell you that I always feel that the saving grace of us being as normal, quote-unquote, as we are, was that we didn't have any psychiatrist or therapist right after our liberation. We were able to heal on our own as much as we could. We didn't have to drench out all our feelings. Now, in my case, maybe I spaced out many things, and that was healthy. That was helpful. Other people later on wanted to talk what is catharsis for them. But I think that we could heal slowly, and that was very beneficial.

In what ways did people help you here in Omaha?

Well, first of all, they helped us physically with our parchment and with money and with jobs. And later on, when we could speak, we formed friendships. I have been very much helped and helped to heal by two very dear friends. And as a matter of fact, which is also ironic, one of them is a Christian, is not Jewish. And I never thought that I will ever trust a non-Jew or be a friend to a non-Jew. And it's a very intimate friend. Susie Buffett is her name, and she has helped me tremendously to bring out the better part of me, really. And then I had another friend, as a matter of fact, my next door neighbor, but my dear friend who is Jewish, who also helped me tremendously, has been always there for me. Because, unfortunately, I became a widow quite young. My husband passed away 20 some years ago, and I was with my mother, an elderly person, and my son, who was just going to college and in a business. And I really didn't think I'd be able to survive any of it. And so having intimate friends and somebody who is there for me always was very important because I didn't have any family to rely on. I didn't have aunts or uncles or cousins to go and say, this is what I am faced with. So for me, having those two friends was very, very important. The Eunie Denenberg is the one who was my next door neighbor, who also I loved dearly. And just as much as I love my friend Susie Buffett.

So they're like your family here, it sounds like.

Yeah, even more so. You know, sometimes friends can be so much more.

You had told me about someone that you met here who you had known from before the war.

Yes, that was such a miraculous thing. We were children living in the same apartment house. It was always a very nice story for dinner conversation. I become very important. We lived as children together in the same building. And we didn't see each other for 10 years and we met here in Omaha. She recognized my mother and I knew about her mother, but we didn't recognize each other because we changed so much. We realized we changed so much. We couldn't recognize each other. So and we remain friends. So that that is it's very important for both of us because, you know, we are just like shipwrecks there. There is no one there. You just like you came from nowhere because there is no family. So to find somebody from your from your past, especially since we were children, we are so grounded. We know we have someone. We have been somebody because you come as a refugee and not knowing the language. You are very strange to people and especially after people know more or less what happened. As a matter of fact, I always think that in our normalcy, we are abnormal because it's unbelievable, improbable to be normal what we have gone through. And it's such a miraculous thing that when I look around and see the people that I came with here and they all went through concentration camps and that they were able to form, marry, love, have families, have children and carry on and being good citizens of the country. That is so amazing to me. I always wonder. I always think, now this is what they should write about. Never mind Auscwhitz, which has been written so much about that. But that that human spirit is so incredible, the human spirit and all the children. Such a fine people, really. And not only the parents.

The children of the survivors?

Yes, yes, yes.

Well, now that you've told me about your story, what message would you have for the children and the grandchildren of you and of your generation?

Well, I just want them to be decent people. I don't want them to dwell on my experiences. I never want them to think of me as a victim. Also, I sometimes do. I want them to be good people. I have a wonderful son and I'm very proud the way he was brought up and the way he lives. I'm very, very proud of him. And I was very lucky. I was very lucky that I fell in love. I was very lucky that I married the man that I fell in love with. And I am very lucky to have a son the way he is. And two great grandchildren that I love dearly, Talia and Zeb and my son Bob.

Thank you very much for sharing your story with us.

Well, thank you so much. You have been very kind and very patient and very understanding and sympathetic and it was a pleasure talking to you. This is the number that I got in Auschwitz, A-26456. I understand that number has been given to another person who didn't survive. And I'm kind of her twins or his twins. I don't know. It's difficult to carry that as a burden. This is my dear husband, deceased now for the last 22 years. The picture was taken in 1950.

And what was your husband's name?

It was Erwin, E-R-W-I-N. And he was born in Budapest, Hungary. This is my Ketubah, my marriage certificate, which was so interesting. It was written in Yiddish on a just piece of paper by a visiting Rabbi who came from Munich. And when we were marrying in displaced person camp in Gabersee, it's very dear to me.

What was the date of your marriage?

In 1948, March. This photograph was taken about 1970. My dear mother, who was also deceased now three years ago, my husband and myself. And what was your mother's name? Mala. That photograph was taken about maybe four years ago at the wedding of a friend. And we are just playing little skits with my dear friend that I mentioned before, Susie Buffett. And you need an American eye. This photograph was taken not long ago, but a couple of weeks ago when my son had a signing ceremony for his just published book, Boychicks and the Hood. And those are my two grandchildren, Talia, who is nine years old and Zef, who is seven and a half years old. Delightful people, all three. I love them dearly. This is the book that I was describing written by Robert Eisenberg, my son that I'm very proud of and endorsed by Elie Wiesel. This is Talia, my dear granddaughter, nine and a half years old, whom I adore. And this is my grandson, Zev, who is almost eight years old, whom I equally adore. This is my dear mother, who went through great tragedies in her life, and you can see that in her face. But she taught me how to live and how to look in life and love life. I miss her very much.