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.
I.G. Grossman in Czechoslavakia pre WWII
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."
