Testimony of Marga Goren-Gothelf formerly from Brandenburg (Havel)
Source : Yad Vashem Archive 033/2335 [The testimony was originally written in English]
On the evening of the 27th of October 1938 a policeman came to our home and asked my mother to hand over her and my sister Paula's [Polish] passports. (Paula was 17 years old at the time and I was 13 and registered in my mother's passport. Although my sisters and I were born in Germany we were not given German citizenship). The policeman told my mother that they were checking all foreign passports and that we would be able to collect them the next morning at the town hall. We were to report there at 9:00 (all three of us). My father had died in December 1932 and my eldest sister Friedel Shlomit, born in 1918, had left for Palestine with Youth Aliyah in 1935. As soon as the policeman left our house, my mother went to some other families to find out what they knew about the situation. None had any idea of what to expect we were completely in the dark as to our fate. It was only later on the following day that we learned the cause…. On the morning of the 28th of October we went to the town-hall ( Rathaus ) and met all the other families who held Polish passports (about ten families). We were kept in a room till noon and had no knowledge of what lay in store for us. The possibility of not returning home ever entered our minds. My mother had left home without any money or jewellery, we had no clothes with us except for those we were wearing. Deportation was a word that so far didn't exist in our conscious mind. Around noon they brought us a big pot of meat-stew and told us to eat as we were about to go on a long journey. Most of the people present were observant and refused to eat [because the food was not kosher], but one of the most learned and religious members of the community Mr. Goldmann who was an accepted authority on matters of religion told us to eat although he himself did not. After lunch we were transported to the railway station and put on a passenger train. Everything was conducted quietly and the people guarding us were local policemen. The train passed through Frankfurt (Oder) and from there east to Poznan and the Polish frontier near Zbaszyn (Bentschen). It was already dark when we left the train and we had no idea as to our location. During the journey carriages with Jews from other places were added to the train and therefore the journey took much longer. We were walked to the frontier-post by the SS who were hastening us along and demanded of those people who were carrying suitcases to lead them by the wayside if they had trouble carrying them. Some places allowed people to take some of their belongings providing they were to carry them all. When we reached the German frontier-pole they lifted it for us to pass through, but the Poles on the other side did not lift theirs and so we were crammed between the two posts in no-man's land. Our group was small but we had been joined by groups from other cities. From Berlin only the men were deported, the women and children stayed behind. On this small stretch of no man's land we spent the whole night standing up and only the crowding kept out the cold. October nights there are long and cold. We stood there in silence and every family tried hard not to lose one another in the dark. Every now and then there were screams of mothers calling their children's names. It was clear to us that we couldn't go back but we didn't know whether the Poles would let us in. We had been told by the Germans that they had guns in back of us which they would use if we tried returning. The Polish guards in front of us were also armed and there we stood waiting. (The transport, which brought the Jews from Hamburg and Hanover which included the members of Hershel Grunspan's family were shot at both by the Polish guards and by the Germans and this caused Hershel Grunspan s shooting of the German Vom Rath in Paris, giving the Nazis and excuse for Crystal Night on November 9th 1938) At the break of dawn the Poles lifted their barrier and let us pass. We found ourselves on the outskirts of Zbaszyn (Bentschen), a small town. We were concentrated in an open lot near the railway station. It was there that we were given our first cup of hot tea and to this day I remember its warm, sweet taste. The uncertainty of our fate caused many rumours and in every corner people were setting up tables for registration although nobody really knew what he was registering for. Zbaszyn was a small townlet of about 5,000 inhabitants. During the Great War it was used as a cavalry-base for the German army. It still had many large stables and barns, which were put to good use as housing for the deportees. Straw was put on the floors and we all slept as we were. Each family together. We were quartered in the 'Schuetzenhaus' which was a very large building. Opposite us against the wall were Hershel Grunspan's parents and sister. They were very orthodox people and when they heard what had happened, they prayed and cried all the time. There was also an unused flour mill which had about six floors. This too was used to house people. The fifth floor was taken over by the youth movements and Hehalutz. They lived there and turned it into the centre of activities for the young people. There we had 'Oneg-Shabbath' on Friday nights and Saturdays and there they conducted courses for studying Hebrew and Polish. Most of the young people were born in Germany and did not know Polish or Yiddish. Aid from the Polish Jewish community arrived promptly. Field kitchens were put at every living quarter, doctors and nurses came from the cities and opened up clinics, there was a clothes and blanket depot and a special kitchen for the children, which was housed in the home of Mr. Leopold Cohen, an elderly Jewish accountant who I believe was the only Jewish resident in Zbaszyn. My mother volunteered to cook for the children and we went to live in Mr. Cohen's attic. Before long many people rented rooms in private homes and began to live as normal a life as possible under the difficult and abnormal circumstances. Every day there were registrations a) to enter Poland, b) to go back to Germany, c) to emigrate to any other place in the whole world which was prepared to take us in, etc. And of course there were always new rumours as to our future fate, what would happen to us? There were also cultural activities, musical recitals organised by the deportees themselves or evenings of sing-songs where some of the nurses taught us Yiddish songs. From the newspapers we knew that apart from the Jewish community in Poland, nobody in the world could be bothered with what was happening to us, and this put the grown-ups in a very pessimistic mood. One day in December 1938 the rumour spread that the British Jewish community had managed to obtain 36 permits for children aged 13-15 who were half-orphans. My mother understood that this was the only way for me to leave Zbaszyn and eventually join my sister Friedel Shlomit in Palestine. I was registered, passed the medical examination and was accepted. In the middle of January 1939 we (36 children) left Zbaszyn on our way to England. I think there was one grown-up accompanying us, but I can't remember anything about her. We passed through Warsaw on our way to Gdynia (Gdansk). At the Warsaw railway station I was met by my uncle Aharon Burman and some of my cousins. For most of us this was our first and last meeting. Nearly all of them were killed in the Holocaust. In Gdynia we boarded the Polish flagship Warszawa and sailed through the Kiel Canal to London. We arrived at the London Docks on February 15th, 1939. (We had spent a few days resting at some place near Warsaw). My sister Paula left Zbaszyn about a month later and joined a Hachshara (training for Palestine) kibbutz near Cracow. She was scheduled to leave for Palestine on the 1st of September 1939, but the outbreak of the war rendered this impossible. When Poland was carved up between Germany and the USSR she fled to Lwow (Lemberg). After the Germans conquered that city we stopped getting any news from her or of her. My mother was permitted to return to Brandenburg to liquidate whatever was left of our property. What she found there caused her much aggravation. Our home had been emptied, all our belongings were in storage. She didn't find any of the valuables (silver, jewellery, carpets, etc.). She sold the furniture for a pittance and most of that she had to pay for the storage. She packed up a few things and sent them to Warsaw, where she was going, but most of the things never arrived as they were stolen in transit. The Jewish families who were still in Brandenburg had all been moved into buildings owned by Jews and the overcrowding was terrible. She didn't stay there long and moved on to Warsaw where she went to live with my cousins who looked after her and supplied all her needs. She lived with them until they were all moved into the ghetto and there too they cared for her as best they could. When the ghetto was liquidated she and my cousins were sent to Maidanek. My cousins were young, and were taken to work. Some of them survived. My mother was sent to Treblinka. My mother was an intelligent and very practical person who had no illusions about our future in Germany. She started to study Hebrew in 1935 and tried very hard to leave Germany. There wasn't a consulate in Berlin where she didn't try to get a visa for us; but who would take in a widow of 38 with three daughters? It was then that she decided to save her daughters. She sent my oldest sister with Youth Aliyah to Palestine in October 1935. My sister Paula's heart had a slight defect and because of that she was not accepted for Youth Aliyah. I was too young, but as soon as there was the opportunity she sent me to England. Thanks to her courage I am alive today. Of all the people who were deported from Brandenburg to Zbaszyn, I believe I am the only one who survived.
