The story of the machinist, 33072, and a ring
Ignaz "I.G." Grossman, of
blessed memory, was my father-
in-law, a fact of which I
will be forever thankful. While
small in stature, he had incredible
physical strength with a
ready smile for his family and
friends. His work ethic was unending
and his devotion and
love for his family was boundless.
While not from a strong
religious family, he was fiercely
proud of being a Jew. One of his
greatest joys in his later years
was doing the hagbah – the
raising of the Torah – during
Shabbat services and showing
a full seven Torah panels to the
congregation.
I.G. was from Ružomberok a
small town in the Tatra Mountains
in northern Czechoslovakia,
now called Slovakia. He
always referred to himself as a
Slovak. His parents, seven siblings,
aunts, uncles and
cousins were close. He and his brothers loved to ski. I.G. and
his brother trained as machinists and had their own busy and
successful machine shop. World War II broke out and their
lives were changes forever. When Czechoslovakia was invaded
in May 1949, I.G. joined the Czech army as a tank commander.
The army was quickly and decisively defeated and the
soldiers were taken as prisoners. He was first shipped to Auchswitz
and received his tattoo of
33072, a number he would use
as an identification number for
belongings for the remainder
of his life. When his machinist
skills were discovered, he was
sent to Gusen Zwei, one of the
sub-camps of Mauthaussen. At
Gusen Zwei underground tunnels
were built, some of which
were in a hollowed out mountain.
The tunnels were used to build Messerschmitt ME 109
and ME 262 aircraft. These
dreaded planes were the terror
in the skies throughout the
war. The slave laborers worked
endless hours in dreadful conditions
with scarce food, water
and rest.
Soon there was the day that
a Nazi officer brought several
pieces of gold jewelry he had
"found" and ordered I.G. to
melt the pieces and create a
ring for the officer to wear. The
"found" jewelry was, of course,
pieces stolen from the homes of Jews that were stolen when
the Jewish families were deported to the concentration
camps. While not trained as jeweler, I.G.'s foundry and blacksmith
skills coupled with his machinist skills enabled him to
make that first ring. Apparently his efforts were acceptable
and that first order was quickly followed by other orders. I.G.
See The machinist page 5
Continued from page 3
quickly found himself handling beautiful pieces of jewelry
which had no doubt been family trasures with untold
memories and meanings.
"Doing this work was incredibly
difficult for Dad," explains
Alex Grossman. "He
knew each and every item
delivered to him had been a
treasure of a fellow, unknown
Jew. Dad quickly became determined
to find a way to
cheat the Nazis and hide a
small amount of gold to use a
potential bribe or other means to aid in his future survival.
"The exact details were never clear to me but in some way
my father managed to retain a tiny amount of gold,
from each 'order' and keep it hidden. How he did so will
forever remain a mystery." Alex adds "The entire time he
knew that if discovered, he would be killed."
In the spring of 1945, the Allies were moving closer and
the Nazis realized the end was near. In a final attempt to
murder as many as possible, the prisoners at the camp
were driven into the tunnels. Explosive charges were set at
the tunnel entraces with the intention of burying everyone
alive. The charges were set but amazingly, did not explode.
Perhaps those charged with igniting the charges left
before completing that final task or by way of a miracle, no
explosions took place. Allied soldiers arrived in early May
of 1945, and the prisoners were liberated. When I.G. left
the camp, the hidden gold was liberated with him.
Taken to a displaced persons camp near Linz, Austria, I.G.
later met and married Miriam Devorah Golomb, of blessed
memory. Their only child, Alex was born in the camp on
March 3, 1948. I.G's skills once again proved to be invaluable
because he was hired to work for the U.S. Army. While
doing that work, he also used the hidden gold and created
the gold ring shown in this picture. The Army contracts later
helped the family move to the United States in 1949. After
a disasterous brief stay in New York during which time I.G.
repeatedly became lost going home from his bicycle factory
job, he asked HIAS to find a place with mountains for his
family. Needless to say, there were no mountains, but
Omaha quickly became their new, permanent home.
Whenever talking about the war, which was not often,
I.G.'s voice would crack and tears would come to his eyes
when talking about the loss of his family, particularly his parents.
When telling the story of the ring however, I.G. would
share it with a confident, self-satisfied look on his face. He
reserved one specific profanity whenever speaking of the
Nazis. While far from the English pronunciation, the meaning
of the phrase "those sal ama vishes" (aka SOBs) was
made clear with the disdain and utter disgust in his voice.
When thinking about the history of the ring, there are
many thiings that can be said about what it represents, including
perseverance, strength, cunning, determination and
pride. I.G. would not have thought of any of these words but
no doubt often had a smile on his face when remembering
one small way he was able to get back at the Nazis.
"My father never wore the ring," concludes Alex. "He said
he was always saving it for me. I have never worn it either,
choosing to keep it for the generations to come. Dad was
a kind but tough old Jew who didn't take any 'drek' from
anyone. He was fair and respected others. His legacy has
been and will continue to be a constant in my life. I hope I
have been able to pass that legacy to our children and they
will pass it to our grandchildren. The memory of my parents
will forever be a blessing to me and our family."