ISSUES 20:4 | Holocaust Survivors

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Volume 20 • 4 I am a Holocaust survivor, but my story cannot be reduced to that one fact. My father, Simon Mendelsberg, was born in Radom, Poland, and was a soldier in the Russian army. He was captured by the Germans during World War I and taken to Berlin. He settled there after the war and became a wholesaler dealing in silver. He met my mother, Marie Hahn, who was born in Berlin, and they were married in 1920. AUSCHWITZ, MENGELE, AND THE GOD WHO WAS WITH ME by Ruth Gottlieb (continued on page 2)

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Transcript of ISSUES 20:4 | Holocaust Survivors

Page 1: ISSUES 20:4 | Holocaust Survivors

Volume 20 • 4

I am a Holocaust survivor, but my story cannot be reduced to that one fact.

My father, Simon Mendelsberg, was born in Radom, Poland, and was a soldier in the Russian

army. He was captured by the Germans during World War I and taken to Berlin. He settled there

after the war and became a wholesaler dealing in silver. He met my mother, Marie Hahn, who

was born in Berlin, and they were married in 1920.

AUSCHWITZ, MENGELE, AND THE GOD WHO WAS WITH MEby Ruth Gottlieb

(continued on page 2)

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ISSN 0741-0352 PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. ©2014EDITOR IN CHIEF: SUSAN PERLMAN EDITOR: MATT SIEGERDESIGN AND ILLUSTRATION: PAIGE SAUNDERSJOIN US AT FACEBOOK.COM/ISSUESMAG

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I was born on April25, 1925. I was an onlychild. My parentswere Zionists, and Iattended TheodoreHerzl Schule, a Zionistschool. I learned tospeak Hebrew there,though at home wespoke German. I was amember of HashomerHatzair, a Zionist youthmovement. We werebrought up with the

expectation that one day we would make aliyah. We attended synagogue every Friday night and

Saturday morning. We often went to our relatives’ homefor the Sabbath and other holidays. We kept kosher, butin Nazi Germany we weren’t allowed to slaughteranimals in a kosher way, and so we seldom had meat.But when my father traveled to Poland, he would bringback kosher sausages.

I remember when Hitler took over the government in1933. At age eight, I didn’t have a great understanding ofwhat was going on, but I knew my parents andgrandmother were very upset. That’s when thepersecution started. We could only sit on the yellowbenches in the parks, and we could not play with non-Jewish children. Even when we went to a Jewishvacation spot, the Hitler Youth came around at nightchanting, “When the Jews are stabbed, blood will spill.”

The severe persecution began in 1938, when I wasthirteen. We were able to leave Germany that yearbecause of my father’s Polish citizenship. We packed ourbags as if we were going on holiday that September andtraveled to Nice (in southern France).

We had no French friends and lived off the jewels my

father brought with us from Germany. Soon the Vichygovernment (collaborators with the Nazis) started toarrest Jews and other “undesirables.” Those fromGermany and Austria were sent to internment camps.We were spared because my father was Polish.

The mass roundups of Jews by the Vichy began in 1942.We hid in Montboron, then tried to escape to Switzerland.But the French police stopped us at the border and sent usby train to Rivesaltes, a French internment camp, in August1942. Everything was very primitive. We slept on theground and there was hardly anything for us to eat. InOctober, my parents were sent to the internment camp inDrancy. I was seventeen. I cried continually for three days.I never saw them again. Later on we learned that they hadbeen sent to (and died in) Auschwitz.

Soon afterwards, Oeuvre de Secour aux Enfants(Organization to Save the Children) smuggled me out ofthe camp. They took me to an establishment for womenand children who had fled Spain’s dictator, Franco. Iwas one of a few Jewish teenagers who had to do allthe domestic work for about 150 people.

Six months later, friends in the Resistance movedme to St. Martin de Vésubie, near Nice, where I livedwith more than 1,100 other Jewish people, most of us

(continued from cover)

Ruth’s parents’ wedding photo

Ruth with her parentson a walk, before moving to Poland

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UNITED STATES: P.O. BOX 424885, SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94142-4885 • CANADA: 1315 LAWRENCE AVENUE #402, TORONTO, ONT M3A 3R3UNITED KINGDOM: 106–110 KENTISH TOWN ROAD, CAMDEN TOWN, LONDON NW1 9PX • SOUTH AFRICA: P.O. BOX 1996, PARKLANDS 2121AUSTRALIA: P.O. BOX 925, SYDNEY NSW 2001

ISSUES is a forum of several Messianic Jewish viewpoints. The author alone, where the author’s name is given, is responsible for the statements expressed. Those wishing to takeexception or wishing to enter into dialogue with one of these authors may write the publishers and letters will be forwarded. Email: [email protected] • jewsforjesus.org

young. There I met a young Jewish man from Austrianamed Aaron Gottlieb, whom I married in August 1943.A month later, the Germans invaded Nice. About 800 ofus from St. Martin de Vésubie left on foot and climbedthe Alps into Italy. We were housed and taken care ofby Italian peasants as we went through the mountains.

But when we arrived in Italy, the Germans were waitingfor us. We climbed higher into the hills and lived asvagabonds. We slept in stables and spent the days with theItalian farmers, who fed us and were very kind to us. AnItalian priest brought us to a place from which theResistance movement was operating. There were a fewthousand Italian partisans there. My husband had served inthe French Foreign Legion, so they made him a lieutenant inthe Resistance. They went by night and blew up bridgesand streets. I helped provide them with food and munitions.

But in March 1944 the Gestapo discovered us,brought us down from the mountains in trucks andimprisoned us in a town called Ceva. A few hours later,my husband was taken, interrogated and murdered. Iwas just eighteen and we had only been married elevenmonths. I was devastated. The Nazis imprisoned me inTurin for two weeks, then put me in a cattle car withhundreds of other Jewish people. There was no room tosit down. We had no food or water and didn’t knowwhere we were going. Four or five days later, the trainarrived at Auschwitz-Birkenau.

The Nazis separated those who could work from thosewho could not. The workers were taken to the camp andthe rest were sent to their death. Even though we heardabout this in the camp, we could not believe it. Later, ofcourse, we saw the ovens and the smoke. And then Ithought of my parents taken from me two years earlier.

We were not spoken to. To the Nazis, we were nolonger humans; we were like cattle. In the morning theywould look for people to do useless manual labor, movingrocks from one side of the road to the other. I knew I could

not survive thelabor, so I wouldtake a pail and abroom and act asif I were underorders to cleanthe toilets. Later Iwas assigned torestore theleather on oldshoes.

I got jaundiceand was sent to the infirmary. They didn’t take care ofus there. I caught scarlet fever, then pneumonia andmalaria. I was in the infirmary for seven months.People died like flies around me, but I was able torecover their bread. Huge rats crawled over our feet.

Twice Dr. Josef Mengele came through to send thesickest of us to the gas chambers. He would look at themedical chart and give it back to us if we “passed.” Ifnot he would keep the chart. When Mengele examinedme, I decided to look him straight in the eye and “starehim down,” although I was naked in front of him and theother soldiers. He gave me the chart back on twodifferent occasions and I escaped the gas chamber.

On January 17, 1945, the Nazis began to evacuateAuschwitz. They set fire to the crematorium to hide theircrimes. They took with them all who were still able towalk—60,000 prisoners—on a death march (15,000 died).I was more dead than alive, and I hid in my bunk. Theyleft me and 7,000 others behind.

Little by little I regained my strength and could standup again. We found a small amount of food in thepantries. We had no shoes and wore rags. We burnedfurniture to warm ourselves and to cook. On January 27,the Soviet army liberated us from the camp. I weighed 66pounds and my knees were thicker than my thighs, but I

Ruth and Aaron Gottlieb

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had somehow survived.The Russians transferred us to a repatriation camp near

Krakow, Poland. There, we began to regain our strength.We danced and made music in the evenings. It didn’t seemlike the Russians were making plans to send us home. Somy close friend Laura Geisinger, two other Italian womenand I left by foot over the Carpathian Mountains throughHungary and Czechoslovakia. We continued by train,traveling on the roof of one of the carriages until we arrivedin Trieste, Italy, at Laura’s family home—now empty. All ofher family had died in the camps. When we shared ourstory with people in Trieste, nobody believed us. Whathappened was just so unthinkable and inhumane.

I returned to Nice, where I worked as a tour guidefor American soldiers on holiday. I found my former artinstructor and took up painting again. In 1947 I moved tothe Pletzl, the Jewish quarter in the Marais district ofParis and became a tailor for a fur coat company. Iapplied to an art school in Paris, but because the warhad cut short my education, I was not accepted.

I met a Sephardic Jewish man, a Holocaust survivor.We lived together and had a baby daughter, Myriam. Wemoved to Nice when Myriam was six months old. AsMyriam’s father was carrying a chair up to our fifth-floorapartment, he sat down to take a break and suddenlydied of an embolism.

Myriam and I moved to Marseilles, where I worked asa laundress at Aliyat Hanoar (The Jewish Agency forIsrael). They were educating Jewish orphans andsending them to Israel. At work I met Paul Sandelbaum,

who had fought with the Resistance. He had beencaptured and imprisoned for four years, then sent toDachau, Buchenwald and other camps, spending eightmore years as a prisoner.

We moved to Israel in 1949, where I gave birth to ourdaughter Judith in 1954. But life in Israel was very hard.Poverty was the norm and we lived in a shanty. Then camethe Suez War in 1956. There were bombings. Paul said tome, “I didn’t nearly die in the camps to be blown up by theArabs.” We decided to return to Germany. Life was easierthan in France. We found a nice apartment, and I got a verygood job in the art world that I remained at for ten years.

When Myriam was eighteen, she moved to Israel andlived in a kibbutz. She met a young Greek man from Cyprusnamed Janis. They came back to Berlin and were married.Myriam gave birth to a son. One Sunday in February 1984,Myriam and her little boy, four years old, were alone in thehouse. When Janis came home, he found his son playingin the living room by himself and Myriam dead in thebathtub. How she died remained a mystery and, of course,a terrible shock. My son-in-law, Janis, took his son back toCypress, and to this day I have never seen them again.

My other daughter, Judith, had married a Filipino,Ben, a year earlier. They lived in Israel, so Paul and Idecided to return there and moved to Tiberias. But Paul,who had loved Myriam as if she were his own child, tookhis own life out of grief in November 1984. We had beentogether for 31 years. I moved in with Judith and herhusband.

In 1990, we all moved to France—

Ruth’s daughters Myriam (left) and Judith; Ruth’s family in Israel

Ruth (right) and her friend Laura

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My mother wasborn Ruth

Michaelis in Berlinin 1935. Her fatherwas Jewish, hermother gentile. In1939, when she wasfour years old, mymother escapedwith her brother viathe Kindertransport.By train and thenboat, they arrived inEngland. The

Kindertransport, a rescue operation implemented duringthe nine months prior to World War II, placed children inBritish foster homes, schools, farms and hostels. In all,10,000 children, mostly Jewish, were rescued from NaziGermany and other European nations. But not the parents.

My grandfather, Robert Michaelis, managed to escapeby boat to Shanghai, China. My grandmother, Louise,stayed with her family in Germany. My mother didn’t seeher parents for ten years. In 1949, her father returned toGermany and reconciled with his wife. Then they came toEngland together and found my mother and uncle, whowere living with their foster family. It took a long time torebuild the relationships, but the family did reconcile.

I grew up as a Jew in London. My father is apsychoanalyst and my mother a psychotherapist; so I think Igrew up a little crazy! I loved my family, my synagoguecommunity and my people. As a teenager, I visited Israelseveral times.

I attended Sussex University, where I followed in myparents’ footsteps by majoring in psychology. But my realpassion was drama. I spent most of my free time acting inand directing plays with my fellow students. Aftercompleting my degree, I moved to Israel for a year and ahalf. I lived in Ashkelon, a coastal city about thirty milessouth of Tel Aviv. I learned Hebrew and worked withSherut La’am, a community service program.

But I didn’t know God. Something was missing. Ireturned to England and sometime later, during apersonal crisis, I started to search for God. I was jealousof the peace I saw in others who had a personal faith, soI decided to attend a church. I found the worship sincere,so I even tried singing the hymns—leaving out the nameof Jesus! I also attended a course for those exploringJesus and Christianity, and I prayed that God would makethe truth clear to me. I began to read the New Testamentand saw that it was a very Jewish book and that Jesusclaimed to be the Jewish Messiah and the Son of God.

As I felt my heart turning toward Jesus, I became fearfulthat I would be betraying my people. But then I read the storyof Helen Shapiro, a famous pop singer in

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On January 26 and 27, 2014, Juden für Jesus (Jews for Jesus in Germany) commemorated International HolocaustRemembrance Day by holding a special program called “Two Sons of the Holocaust” in Düsseldorf and Essen.On the first evening, though the hall was filled, an unnatural quiet settled over the room. Instead of the noise of

many private conversations, people seemed to sit in silent expectation of what they’d come to see and hear—thestories of two sons of the Holocaust: one, the son of a survivor; the other, the son of a Nazi war criminal. History saidthat they should be enemies. But now they stood side by side on the platform, united by their love for the Jewishpeople, and by their love for the Jewish Messiah, Jesus.

After their moving speeches, Barry Barnett and Werner Oder embraced. Here are their stories:

SON OF A HOLOCAUST SURVIVOR by Barry Barnett

Barry Barnett

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Given some of my earliest memories, you may find it hardto believe that today I am a Christian pastor who loves

the Jews and Israel.I was born into a family infested with the dark obsession

of anti-Semitism. My maternal grandfather worked for HansLudin, the German ambassador to Bratislava who deported22,000 Jews to the death camps. Ludin was arrested in myhometown of Linz, Austria, by the Americans and laterhanged for war crimes.

As a young man, my father, Wilhelm Oder, joined theNational Socialist party in Austria. To destabilize thecountry, the Germans had been sending in agitators tocommit violent acts against the government, and Wilhelmwas one of their local collaborators. When the AustrianChancellor was assassinated in 1934, the governmentarrested the Nazi agitators, including Wilhelm. He was triedas a terrorist and was about to be executed when theWehrmacht (German armed forces) marched in and“merged” Austria with the Third Reich.

Wilhelm then joined the Waffen-SS and was trained in

the concentration camp atDachau. Afterwards, he wassent to the Polish village ofRabka, where the Nazisrequisitioned a girls’ schooland turned it into a center fortraining the Einsatzgruppen(death squads for the SSoperating throughout EasternEurope).

For the duration of thewar, Wilhelm stayed at thetraining center and becamean expert in killing Jews. Hedeveloped the Genickschussmethod of shooting a victim inthe nape of the neck, which proved the most efficient meansof execution other than the gas chambers.

When the Russians pushed the German army back intoPoland, Wilhelm was captured and put in a prisoner of warcamp. Fearing execution if his SS past were discovered, he

MY FATHER THE NAZI by Werner Oder

England who is Jewish and came to believe in Jesus. Whenshe explained how her faith in Yeshua (Jesus) went hand inhand with her Jewish identity, the pieces fell in place for me.At age 33, I came to that same conclusion. At a Hanukkah

party in 2005, I met Alison, also a Jewish believer in Jesus.We began dating and were married in 2007.

I do have a confession. Before I knew Jesus as myMessiah, I had great hatred in my heart for anyone Iconsidered an enemy of our Jewish people. That includedpeople who had committed so much violence against us“in the name of Christ.” That’s in part because of my familyhistory and in part because of the zeal I have always hadfor our Jewish people and Israel. That hatred started to dieafter I encountered Yeshua. However—even though Godhad rescued my mother from Hitler, and Jesus hadrescued me from despair—some of my hatred for theNazis lingered until very recently. But meeting WernerOder and hearing his story has helped me to surrender thatlast piece of hate I held in my heart. �

Editor’s note: Barry Barnett is a staff member with Jews forJesus based in London.

Jewish children arrive in Great Britain via the Kindertransport from Germany.

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Werner Oder

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managed to escape and make his way back into Austria,where he hid out with other Nazi fugitives. EventuallyAmerican forces identified and arrested him with the help offamed Nazi hunter Simon Wiesenthal.

War crimes trials in Austria were often “kangaroocourts” that mocked the accusers and relied onquestionable “character witnesses” to hand downacquittals or easy sentences. The witnesses againstWilhelm Oder were neutralized by positive testimonials,resulting in a relatively light sentence of six years hardlabor. When released from prison, Wilhelm lived as a heronear his hometown, an early breeding ground for Hitler’sNazi movement.

Wilhelm was a womanizer and was still imprisonedwhen he fathered me. My family lived in a beautifulcountry estate, but we were forced to move to a slum afterthe release of my father, who was incredibly violent, andsired many children by various women. When he camehome, when I was three years old, he brought all hisdemons with him.

I became intensely violent, aggressive, and developed ablind hatred towards the Jews. This is not something whichjust happens; it is a learned behavior. I started to havenightmares. I was screaming every night out of fear,because I saw demonic beings in our home that I thoughthad come to kill me. These nightmares lasted for six years,every night the same nightmare, the same screaming. Ibecame very sick and frightened, was out of my mind andknew sooner or later I was going to die.

At the age of nine, I cried out to God for the first time inmy life, “I do not want to die. I want to live!” Although I knewnothing about God, that was my first prayer. Seven yearslater I met Peter Wiegand, a young German Christian who Ilater learned had felt called to be an evangelist in Austria atthe same time as my desperate prayer. Peter was the firstperson to tell me about the love of God. This was anincredible concept for me, that somebody who is called Godloves me. From the moment I decided to trust in Jesus, thetorment and nightmares stopped and my sanity wasrestored. I was delivered from the evil of anti-Semitism and

received a love forIsrael and theJewish people. Iwill never forgetthat night when thefinger of God wrotethe love for Israelindelibly on myheart.

But giving mylife to Jesus wasnot a quick fix. Mymoral andpsychological lifewas a mess. For thenext seven years, Ilearned biblicalprinciples at a Christian youth center in Austria. Slowly, mylife got back on track.

I went back to my family, who were still committed Nazisand anti-Semites. I told them that Jesus had become mySavior and said, “What did you do to the Jews? Do youknow that Jesus is a Jew?” It was like throwing a handgrenade. All hell broke loose. I was accused of things; I wasshot at. I still have the scar where a bullet grazed the backof my head.

In 1972, I left Austria for Capernwray in the north ofEngland to attend Bible school, where I met my wife, Avril. Ieventually became the pastor of Tuckton ChristianFellowship in Bournemouth.

Because of my love for Israel, God gives me manyopportunities to speak at Holocaust memorial days andconferences. I am grateful to God for the privilege ofstanding for Israel and the Jews in a world of increasinganti-Semitism. �

This account was adapted from an article originally published byInternational Christian Embassy Jerusalem (ICEJ). The interview wasconducted by Herta Leithgöb and translated into German by LisaRüdiger. You can read the entire story of Werner’s life in his book,Battling with Nazi Demons, available through Amazon.

As Hitler Youth, Werner’s stepbrothers Peter(left) and Wilhelm, with their mother Lina

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Judith and Ben to Perpignan, while I went back to Nice.Although we were now a four-hour drive from eachother, my daughter and I kept in close touch. In fact, wecontinued to explore a subject that had alwaysfascinated us—spirituality.

As far back as 1970, when we were living inGermany and Judith was just sixteen, we started ourspiritual search. We found yoga and, through yoga,Buddhism. We went to Buddhist seminars andmeetings. I didn’t go that far into Buddhism, becauseof course I was still Jewish! We went to libraries andstudied every religion. We were looking for the truth.

In the 1980s at one point I lived in a hotel in Tiberias,in a room on the eighth floor. I could see the Sea ofGalilee. One day, I had a vision in which I saw Yeshua(Jesus) walking on the lake. It wasn’t a dream; I just sawhim! So I told my daughter and I got more and moreinterested in Jesus and read many books about him.

When we moved back to France, we were stillseeking and reading. Then one day, I was walking on thebeach in Nice, and I met a Christian woman named

Rosemund. We spoke about Jesus for quite a while.When we began to read the Bible together, it suddenlybecame very clear to me that Jesus was our JewishMessiah. I talked with my daughter, and over time shetoo came to believe in him.

Jesus was Jewish. He taught from the HebrewScriptures. In his day the New Testament didn’t exist. Hedied for our sins voluntarily—no one murdered him, neitherRomans nor Jews. Some people claim the New Testamentis anti-Semitic. What an idea! It’s not in the least bit anti-Semitic. All you have to do is to read it and you will find abook that is thoroughly Jewish.

I’ve always wondered why God took me out of theconcentration camp and restored my health—goodhealth, I must say.There are millionsthat died. I was notsaved thanks to myown chochmah(wisdom). Irecognize that Godsaved me, but lamadavka ani (whyme?). I don’t knowthe answer.

Since I havecome to know Yeshua, I have a whole different way ofthinking. I don’t need to go to the cinema to beentertained or a lot of material things to be happy. I amjust more content. Most of all, I have peace in my heartknowing that my sins are forgiven and that one day Iwill be with my Messiah in heaven. �

What do a devout Orthodox Jew, a drug dealer, and a female cantor all have

in common? Check out Shout Out to find out. Jewish journeys of faith,

streaming now at jewsforjesus.org/shoutout

Please visit j4j.co/issues2004 for more Holocaust-related articles and features,

including the free booklet, “That Jew Died for You.”

Ruth, Myriam, Judith and Paul Sandelbaum

Ruth more recently

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Ruth’s story in the French language with English subtitles isavailable on DVD. You can order a copy atstore.jewsforjesus.org