The Nazi Officer's Wife: How One Jewish Woman Survived the Holocaustby Edith H. Beer
Edith Hahn was an outspoken young woman studying law in Vienna when the Gestapo forced Edith and her mother into a ghetto, issuing them papers branded with a "J." Soon, Edith was taken away to a labor camp, and though she convinced Nazi officials to spare her mother, when she returned home, her mother had been deported. Knowing she would become a hunted woman, Edith… See more details below
Edith Hahn was an outspoken young woman studying law in Vienna when the Gestapo forced Edith and her mother into a ghetto, issuing them papers branded with a "J." Soon, Edith was taken away to a labor camp, and though she convinced Nazi officials to spare her mother, when she returned home, her mother had been deported. Knowing she would become a hunted woman, Edith tore the yellow star from her clothing and went underground, scavenging for food and searching each night for a safe place to sleep. Her boyfriend, Pepi, proved too terrified to help her, but a Christian friend was not: With the woman's identity papers in hand, Edith fled to Munich. There she met Werner Vetter, a Nazi party member who fell in love with her. And despite her protests and even her eventual confession that she was Jewish, he married her and kept her identity secret. In vivid, wrenching detail, Edith recalls a life of constant, almost paralyzing fear. She tells of German officials who casually questioned the lineage of her parents; of how, when giving birth to her daughter, she refused all painkillers, afraid that in an altered state of mind she might reveal her past; and of how, after her husband was captured by the Russians and sent to Siberia, Edith was bombed out of her house and had to hide in a closet with her daughter while drunken Russians soldiers raped women on the street. Yet despite the risk it posed to her life, Edith Hahn created a remarkable collective record of survival: She saved every set of real and falsified papers, letters she received from her lost love, Pepi, and photographs she managed to take inside labor camps. On exhibit at the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C., these hundreds of documents form the fabric of an epic story--complex, troubling, and ultimately triumphant.
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Chapter OneAfter a while there were no more onions. My coworkers (among the Red Cross nurses at the Stadtische Krankenhaus in Brandenburg said it was because the Fuhrer needed the onions to make poison gas with which to conquer our enemies. But I think by then-it was May 1943-many citizens of the Third Reich would have gladly forgone the pleasure of gassing the enemy if they could only taste an onion.
At that time, I was working in the ward for the foreign workers and prisoners of war. I would make tea for all the patients and wheel it around on a little trolley, trying to smile and give them a cheery "Guten Tag. "
One day when I brought the teacups back to the kitchen to wash, I interrupted one of the senior nurses slicing an onion. She was the wife of an officer and came from Hamburg. I believe her name was Hilde. She told me the onion was for her own lunch. Her eyes searched my face to see if I knew that she was lying.
I made my gaze vacant and smiled my silly little fool's smile and went about washing up the teacups as though I had absolutely no idea that this nurse had bought her onion on the black market especially to serve to a critically injured Russian prisoner, to give him a taste he longed for in his last days. Either thing-buying the onion or befriending the Russian-could have sent her to prison ,
Like most Germans who defied Hitler's laws, the nurse from Hamburg was a rare exception. More typically, the staff of our hospital stole the food meant for the foreign patients and took it home to their families or ate it themselves. You must understand, these nurses were not well-educated women from progressive homes for whom caring for the sickwas a sacred calling. They were very often young farm girls from East Prussia, fated for lifelong backbreaking labor in the fields and barns, and nursing was one of the few acceptable ways by which they could escape. They had been raised in the Nazi era on Nazi propaganda. They truly believed that, as Nordic "Aryans," they were members of a superior race. They felt that these Russians, Frenchmen, Dutchmen, Belgians, and Poles who came into our clinic had been placed on earth to labor for them. To steal a plate of soup from such low creatures seemed not a sin but a perfectly legitimate activity.
I think we must have had more than ten thousand foreign pnisoners in Brandenburg, working in the Opel automobile factory, the Arado airplane factory, and other factories. Most of those whom we saw in the hospital had been injured in industrial accidents. While building the economy of the Reich, they would mangle their hands in metal presses, burn themselves in flaming forges, splash themselves with corrosive chemicals. They were a slave population, conquered and helpless; transported away from their parents, wives, and children; longing for home. I did not dare to look into their faces for fear of seeing myself-my own terror, my own loneliness.
In our cottage hospital, each service was housed in a separate building. We on the nursing staff ate in one building, did laundry in another, attended to orthopedic cases in another and infectious diseases in yet another. The foreign prisoners were rigorously separated from German patients, no matter what was wrong with them. We heard that one time, a whole building was allocated to foreigners suffering from typhus, a disease that comes from contaminated water. How they had contracted such a disease in our beautiful historic city-which had inspired immortal concertos, where the water was clean and the food was carefully rationed and inspected by our government-was impossible for simple girls Iikee us to comprehend. Many of my coworkers assumed that the foreigners had brought it on themselves, because of their filthy personal habits. These nurses managed not to admit to themselves that the disease came from the unspeakable conditions under which the slave laborers were forced to live.
You must understand that I was not really a nurse but rather a nurse's aide, trained only for menial tasks. I fed the patients who could not feed themselves and dusted the night tables. I washed the bedpans. My first day on the job, I washed twenty-seven bedpans-in the sink, as though they were dinner dishes. I washed the rubber gloves. These were not to be discarded like the thin white gloves you see today. Ours were heavy, durable, reusable. I had to powder their insides. Sometimes I prepared a black salve and applied it to a bandage and made compresses to relieve the pain of rheumatism. And that was about it. I could not do anything more medical than that.
Once I was asked to assist at a blood transfusion. They were siphoning blood from one patient into a bowl, then suctioning the blood from the bowl and into the veins of another patient. I was supposed to stir the blood, to keep it from coagulating. I became nauseated and ran from the room. They said to themselves: "Well, Grete is Just a silly little Viennese youngster with almost no education, the next thing to a cleaning woman how much can be expected from her? Let her feed the foreigners who have chopped off their fingers in the machines."
I prayed that no one would die on my watch. Heaven must have heard me, because the prisoners waited for my shift to be over, and then they died.
I tried to be nice to them; I tried to speak French to the Frenchman to assuage their homesickness. Perhaps I smiled too brightly, because one August morning my head nurse told me that I had been observed to be too friendly with the foreigners, so I was being transferred to the maternity service...
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I was very moved by Ms. Beer's memoir. It's a must read for all. The courage, bravery and love she exhibited during her ordeal is incredible and inspirational. Most of us can't even begin to imagine what she (and others) endured during WWII. Thank you, Edith, for sharing your story.
The Nazi Officer's Wife is a startling, true account of the Holocaust, written by a woman who lived it. Edith Hahn Beer, with collaboration of Susan Dworkin, wrote this autobiography with explicit detail, recalling the events of her life. She kept this book to a small portion of her life, including only the events that happened during the reign of the Third Reich. The Nazi Officer's Wife is an excellent tale of a Jewish woman living through the Holocaust. Beer wrote her autobiography in order to 'speak up' about the events that shaped her life. She kept every letter, every passport, and every artifact from the Holocaust, and they now reside at the National Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. She now feels that she has done her part to inform people about the Holocaust. The book explains life at work camps, life in the ghettos, and life as a German. Beer wrote about the cruelties that she lived through, and described the hope that she would one day be able to tell the world who she was. The outcome of the book was very intriguing. I have read a myriad of books pertaining the Holocaust. None of the compare to The Nazi Officer's Wife. The autobiography gave a personal account-almost to the day- of Edith Hahn Beer's life. If you enjoy reading about the Holocaust, or you would like to get a personal account to someone's tragedies, this book is a great one. The Nazi Officer's Wife is an easy book to read because is keeps you attention, and I couldn't put it down.
Ms.Beer touched my heart when I read her book. The strength that she had to find just to stay alive is beyond belief. The knowlede of losing everyone close to her in her young years, and finding the courage to dream about them and go on. She was just a human in an unhuman world, not fully understanding the horrific tragedies that occured around her. She rose from the ashes of starvation and despair becoming a stronger women. I am glad that her story was told and I will forever cry for Edith, while remembering her strength.
I couldn't put this book down. Edith made different choices than some other holocaust survivors. But how can you judge someone when they fear for their life? She decides to go underground and remain in Germany. Death showed no prefernce for the brave, the meek, the weak and the strong. By the same token also the brave, the weak and strong did survive as well.
This a story of a young Jewish woman and her struggle to survive WW2 and the evil that some people are capable of. It talks about all the good times and memories she had before the war (studying, going to see family, theater) and goes into the bad things that happened during the war (she couldn't do things she used to do, just because she was Jewish). She talks about struggling just to survive. Where her next meal will come from. She talks about wanting to have a child, but at one point in her life, she is not sure if she will ever have one. And probably the most important, how a young Jewish woman survived being married to a Nazi officer). It does not go into gory detail, but more of an emotional account of what happend. She does such a wonderful job of mixing the happy and sad moments of her young life. I am only 29 and she was in her mid 20s when this happened. I can't even imagine how or if I could handle that type of life. Thank God for the allies, and hopefully the world will wake up one day, and realize how stupid prejudices and war really are. I am not a reader, but I was a little upset when the story ended. I will also recommend this book to anyone who is or is not interested in reading. It keeps your interest the whole way through.