I do strongly believe that many of the post WWII era inhabitants of this area have strong ties to the current wave of “Xenophobia” that permeates many European countries, particularly Germany and France. There have been horrible examples of anti-foreigner discrimination all over Europe, especially in Germany, Austria and France. This new form of Nazism is no less menacing than the old one. Many of today’s Germans refuse to admit to this inherent Germanic problem. Even though the Nazi party is officially forbidden in modern day Germany, the NPD is an auxiliary legal party that holds many of the same common beliefs as the former Nazi party. In some German states they have achieved as many as 10-12% of all the votes cast, in both local and national election results.
These recent barbaric acts seem to be in stark contrast to the many brave and heroic deeds performed by the villagers of the 30’s and 40’s. It is of these brave souls and the Goldmann’s that we will speak of. Although I am highly critical of many Germans of today’s generation, I do not wish to be as “Xenophobic” as they are. Many of the villagers were and are very brave and courageous citizens. It is important to note that I have many friends and relatives who do not fit this “Xenophobic” mold, and in fact were very sympathetic and tried to help those who were oppressed by the Nazis.
I often wonder how I would have acted under similar circumstances? It is far easier to criticize than to relive the horrors they endured under Hitler. Most modern Germans are honest, hard working and socially democratic, however the other 10-12% are dangerous, evil and aggressive in nature. One has to only watch some of the large sporting events between Germany and some third world countries. Many of the banners and placards carried by German soccer fans are openly Xenophobic and racist in nature. It is also amazing to me that discrimination is legal in Germany! They can and do openly advertise; “Foreigners need not apply, Americans, Turks etc.” These statements were often posted in newspaper ads, and journals.
This is why it is so important for me to tell this incredible story. A story of hate, fear, betrayal, gloom and misery. And yet sandwiched between those strong sentiments were desperate feelings of hope, heroism, love, honor, friendship and respect. Every new development brought about a new and startling paradox in emotions and thoughts.
As a writer I initially objected to this form of novel writing. However after speaking with our main characters and thoroughly researching these events, Erik and the other participants convinced me to use this style of a novel. I agreed to their desires and altered the story just enough to protect his family wishes, the memories of a heroic father, his family and the victims of the Nazi holocaust.
I have written this book in the form of a novel based on some true events, liberally sprinkled with some Hollywood drama for effect. It is my hope that younger generations will not be so easily swayed from the path of rightfulness and justice. I do not wish to convey the idea that all events happened exactly as I described them. I am telling it as it was told to me; with some dramatic license to help it along when needed. One thing we must remember, this is not a trial that we are conducting, but the telling of a human tragedy and the rebirth of a courageous man.
Germany is a beautiful and majestic country to the casual tourist or observer, but deep in its subconscious lays a sleeping dragon waiting to once again wake up, and swallow Europe? Maybe not in the same context as WWI or WWII, but perhaps using political and economical might? A prime example of Germany’s love with authority is the former East Germany, aka DDR. Their communistic form of government was even more repressive than their puppet-masters the Russians. The East Germans had more secret police agents and spies than the KGB. When the wall finally came down, over four million secret files were found on many West/East Germans, Americans and other NATO allies.
A warning must go out to all of those who flirt with these unhealthy and undemocratic ideals. The world is watching and we cannot allow a repetition of those past experiences.
Our story takes place in the 20th and 21st centuries, a time in which such horrors cannot and should not occur again, and yet, we see that in fact they come to pass, again, again and again. Some of the most recent example being the genocide committed against the Muslim minorities in the Balkans and the horrors against the people of Kosovo, Kuwait, Iraq, Darfur Sudan, Lebanon (by Syria), Rwanda and especially the continuous attacks on Israel by the Hezbollah and Hamas terrorists supported in great part by Syria and especially Iran.
In fact one could say that the fanatic zeal of today’s Islamic terrorists are reminiscent of yesterday’s fascists. Large crowds all chanting in unison, preaching their twisted beliefs and calling for the deaths of Jews and Christian. It seems as if the world has forgotten the pre-WWII historical events leading up to the holocaust. Thank God that Israel is strong enough to defend itself. Hopefully we in America; will continue to support Israel.
This plot started over thirty-three years ago, when a young American, living and working in Germany, purchased an “old” house, Das Haus, in a small city in Germany, near the Belgium/Dutch border. At the time, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.
Das Haus had a way of growing on you, and as circumstances later developed, it became an obsession to find out what really happened to its original occupants. His first impression was not favorable. The once beautiful facade of the house had been severely damaged by hundreds of bullet and shell fragment holes. The sides of Das Haus were even worse; over twelve hundred bricks would have to be replaced during the renovation. Over two decades of research, work, agony and many tears finally led to a form of finality. A totality for some and not for others. No one, but the original Jewish inhabitants of Das Haus will ever know the truth. Das Haus was to become the house of death for all the Jewish inhabitants of that and many nearby villages. It was also the birthplace of freedom, courage and bravery for one heroic man, rabbi Franz Goldmann (Fictitious).
It was not the perfect answer to a very difficult question, but at least the discovery and location of our hero Erik Goldmann, made the effort worthwhile. My investigation led me to the Holocaust Museum in Washington D.C., and after many hours of research, I also found the final resting place of Rabbi Goldmann (fictitious name) in Izbica, Poland. Izbica was a sort of staging area used by the Nazis, until they could decide what to do with you. Some Jews were executed on the spot and never sent on to camps. The Nazis butchered Rabbi Goldmann, and thousands of others in 1942.
It was a very emotional, yet fulfilling moment in my life. To know that I had perhaps helped his son come to term with the loss of his brave father, a real hero.
I was later informed by Erik of his pilgrimage to Izbica, Poland and the feeling of relief he felt when he visited the spot where his father, a brave, honest and good man; was so viciously murdered by the Nazis. Strangely enough, we found no record of his beloved mother. She simply disappeared like so many others, never to be heard from again.
One of the many reasons that it took so long to locate Erik was the fact that he had slightly altered his name. If it had not been for the Internet, and its endless capabilities, I would probably still be looking for him. For obvious reasons, Erik also made very little effort in maintaining contact with anyone in that village.
The only exception was one individual, who has since passed away. That individual received an occasional phone call every five or ten years from Erik. In return he rarely kept in touch with Erik. Although boyhood friends, too much had happened for them to keep up an artificial friendship. However, this individual was instrumental in our final success, because he had a clue that led me to Erik.
This human being happened to be my now deceased father-in-law. Dieter, (fictitious) had been for many years the sole caretaker of the long forgotten Jewish cemetery in our village. He hoped that his small gesture would someday reunite long lost friends, and perhaps rekindle a kindred spirit of his youth. Although Dieter freely admitted to me having been a member of the Nazi party in his youth, he showed me a true and genuine interest
