The Upstairs Room

  THE

  UPSTAIRS

  ROOM

  By Johanna Reiss

  Copyright © 1972 by Johanna Reiss

  Copyright © Renewed 2000 by Johanna Reiss

  Cover image © 2011 by Julie Ziesemann

  Published by Graymalkin Media

  http://www.graymalkinmedia.com/

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  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Printed in the United States of America. For information address HarperCollins Children’s Books, a division of HarperCollins Publishers, 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022.

  Designed by Barbara Kohn Isaac

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 77-187940

  ISBN 0-690-85127-8

  ISBN 0-690-04702-9 (lib. bdg.)

  This book is about my life, or rather part of my life, the part that took place in Holland during the Second World War. In this book I have gone back to those years, when I was a child, and Jewish, and therefore undesirable, when I had to hide from the Germans.

  I have not tried to write a historical book, although it may have some historical value. What I did try to write was a simple, human book, in which my sister and I suffered and complained, and sometimes found fault with the Gentile family that took us in for a few years, in which the members of that family were not heroes but people, with strengths and weaknesses.

  JOHANNA REISS

  Contents

  Dedication

  Introduction

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  Postscript

  About the Author

  For the memory of Jim

  INTRODUCTION

  THE Second World War started in 1939 when the German army marched into Poland, but the war had been in the making for many years, perhaps twenty, ever since the Germans lost the First World War and were forced to sign a peace settlement that they considered unreasonably harsh and humiliating. They especially resented the fact that they were not allowed more than a token army. Many veterans could not find jobs and looked angrily for an outlet for their energies.

  Adolf Hitler had been an impassioned soldier in the German army during the First World War, and he was even more upset than most when Germany lost the war. He decided to go into politics and bring back glory to his country. He had an incredible hatred of Jews, and he blamed them for Germany’s defeat; he blamed others, too. Not the German soldiers though. They had been brave, he said, and capable, and would never have lost the war. Many discontented Germans … among them the dissatisfied war veterans… wholeheartedly agreed with Hitler’s ideas and joined his budding Nazi party. They were convinced that under his leadership Germany’s humiliation and defeat would be wiped out. He had said they would be.

  In 1933, after Hitler became chancellor of Germany, the Nazi party was designated the only legal one. He started to rebuild the army, something the peace settlement did not permit him to do, but the world was trying to recover from a severe economic depression, and was too busy with problems of its own to stop Hitler. Most Germans wanted Germany to be a strong military country and were delighted with his actions. Schools taught students how wonderful military power was and that, according to Hitler and the millions of devoted members of the Nazi party, Jews were responsible for almost all the evil things in the world and should be punished. The German radio, newspapers, and movies told the public the same things. Hatred of Jews spread, and soon official decisions were made to fire Jews from their jobs, to take away their property, to beat them, and eventually to kill them.

  Hitler’s plans to establish Germany as the dominant world power were already well underway when on the first of September, 1939, his army invaded Poland. Two days later England and France declared war on Germany, and almost immediately these two allied nations were joined by others, including Canada and Australia. Far from discouraged, the Germans plowed through much of northwestern Europe in the spring and early summer of 1940. Denmark was the first country they took, followed by Norway, Holland, Belgium, Luxembourg, and France. In every country they occupied, the Germans established an efficient machinery for the punishment of Jews.

  In April 1941, Hitler’s soldiers attacked in North Africa, to help Germany’s partner Italy in the battle against British power there, and in June 1941, the Germans marched into Russia. Hitler was delirious with success. Before his troops entered Russia, though, Hitler had made a promise to Japan. He would stand by that nation in case of a clash between Japan and the United States. The clash came in December 1941, and Hitler declared war on America, only a few hours before the United States itself declared war on Germany and Italy.

  Hitler had no idea how great Russia and America’s strength would be. For the next three and a half years many battles were fought, and little by little the German soldiers had to leave every country they had occupied. Even her own land became a battleground, and in the spring of 1945, the Russians and the Allies met in Berlin. The war was over.

  It had been horrible. People all over the world had suffered. This story tells of the sufferings of Jews in Holland.

  1

  I WAS not very old in 1938, just six, and a little thing. Little enough to fit between the wall and Father’s chair, which in those days was always pulled up in front of the radio. He sat with his face close to the radio, bent forward, with his legs spread apart, his arms resting on his knees. And he listened.

  “Father, look at this.” I held out a drawing I had made.

  “Ssht.”

  “Father, I asked you to.… ”

  He listened, but not to me.

  Where was Austria, which Hitler had attached to Germany in the spring? It was not a nice thing to have done, I guessed. Father had looked angry.

  Hitler. All the man on the radio ever talked about was Hitler. He must be an important man in Germany. Why didn’t he like German Jews? Because he didn’t. Why else would he be bothering them. The radio said he did.

  “Father … ”

  “Ssht.”

  Or why would he let Jews buy food only at certain hours? Or arrest them and put them in jail? Only the jail was called a camp. But Germany wasn’t Holland. I smiled. A good thing! If we lived in Germany, Hitler might do the same thing to us. He must have been the man who had just told the German people they could steal things from Jews. Anything they liked they could take. Or burn. The German people could even arrest Jews, just like that.

  The radio said something had happened. A Jewish boy had killed a German man. That wasn’t nice. But allowing people to run through the streets in Germany one night and do all those things to the Jews was not nice either. It had a special name that night: Kristallnacht.

  “Father, what does Kristallnacht mean?”

  “Ssht, Annie. I’m listening.” />
  That was all Father said to me these days. And I didn’t like it. He used to say much more to me, nice things. Even play with me. How could I ever find out anything if he never answered questions? I got to my feet. Mother would tell me. I walked into her bedroom to ask her what the word Kristallnacht meant, but she had a headache again. How come bad kidneys give you headaches?

  Well anyway, Germany wasn’t Holland. I frowned. Winterswijk was near the German border though, less than twenty minutes away. That’s how close it was. Some farmers lived so close to the border that their cows grazed in Germany, only across the road from their houses. I knew because Father was a cattle dealer, and he often took me with him when he went to buy cows.

  I was glad we lived right in Winterswijk, not so close to Germany that you could see it from your room. I saw something much nicer when I looked out of my window: the house of the Gans family, which was right across the street. The Ganses often waved to me at night when I leaned out the window… the old man and woman and their big son. “Get back in bed,” they’d call, “or we’ll tell your mother.”

  That wouldn’t be bad. As long as they didn’t tell my sisters. I had two of them, Sini and Rachel. Big sisters, sixteen and twenty-one. And then there was Marie, our sleep-in maid, who was almost like a sister. We all lived in our house in the center of town, away from that border.

  After the bad night in Germany, a meeting was held at our house. The Gans family came, all three of them, and Uncle Bram, who was in the cattle business with Father, and his wife. Uncle Phil was there without his wife because Aunt Billa and Mother didn’t speak to each other. It had to do with my grandmother, who lived with Aunt Billa and Uncle Phil but who came to our house every day to complain about them. I knew. I had heard her. When I sat at the top of the stairs, I could hear a great deal, whether the voices came from the bedroom upstairs or from the living room downstairs, as they did now. They were excited voices: “We must help those German Jews who cross the border to come to Winterswijk.… They left everything behind in Germany.… ” “They need our help. I talked to some today.… ” “Big raw scar on the face of one… German soldier … with whip.”

  “But why?” That was Mother.

  “Because he was a Jew, Sophie.” Father sounded impatient.

  “It can’t happen here … safe here … this isn’t Germany … this is Holland, you know.… ” “That Hitler has war on his mind, Sophie, … and we’re Jews, too.… ”

  There, footsteps. I ran back to my room and climbed in bed. I pulled the blankets over my head.

  A few months later Uncle Bram and his wife left for America. We went to the station to say good-bye. They must have been planning to stay for a long time. They took a lot of suitcases with them. And it must be far away, for Uncle Bram said that Hitler would never be able to reach them in America.

  “Sophie, why don’t we go too?” Father said.

  But Mother said she had too many headaches to leave Holland and start all over again. Waving, we remained at the station until the train went. With angry steps Father walked over to his car, opened it, and got in. He slammed the door and drove away, leaving us to walk home.

  By the fall of 1939, Rachel had graduated from teachers’ college. She found a job at one of the nursery schools in Winterswijk. Sini started to work on a farm. At night when Father and Mother went across the street to sit outside with the Gans family, Mother tried to talk about my sisters. “That Rachel … so capable … and Sini, studying for her milking diploma.… ” But I could tell from my window that nobody was listening to her. They were talking about the Germans who had invaded Poland.

  That was a bad thing to have done, Rachel told me. So bad that England and France had said to Germany, “Get your soldiers out of Poland, or else.” But Hitler had just laughed, and now England and France were at war with Germany. Served him right.

  Why did I have to go to bed so early? It was still light out. After all, I was in second grade now. Tomorrow I would refuse to do it. I stuck my head farther out the window. Nobody looked up to tell me that I had to go back to bed, not even Mrs. Gans. They were too busy talking.

  That winter the Gans family spent almost every night at our house, in front of the radio. They didn’t have one of their own. Hitler did not seem to like Polish Jews either. He seemed to like them even less than German Jews. He had had some of them beaten so hard they had died, and they hadn’t even done anything. How did he dare? I was often glad when Mother told me that it was time for me to go to bed. Under the blankets I couldn’t hear the radio.

  “Sophie,” Father said, “we can’t stay here any longer. We must go to America. I just heard that the German army is in Denmark and Norway. Sophie, that’s close! Do you hear me? We have no choice. We’re Jews!”

  “Ies, you know I don’t feel well. How can I leave? You’re shouting so my head hurts even more. Annie, go to the kitchen and play there.”

  Unwillingly I left. Why did Mother always have to have headaches?

  Father started to build a house outside of Winterswijk, where Mother felt we would be about as safe as in America. It made Father furious to hear her say that. But he built the house anyway. The house wasn’t going to be near that border. No, it would be far away, on the other side of Winterswijk. The Germans would not bother us there.

  And then it was May 10, 1940. In the middle of the night I woke up. So much noise. I jumped out of bed. Where was everybody? They were on their way down-stairs. I ran downstairs, too.

  “What’s happening?” I asked. “I hear planes. What are they going to do?”

  “I’m sure they’re German planes,” Rachel said.

  “Maybe there’s war here, too,” Sini said.

  “This is it,” Father mumbled. “Now it’s our turn.”

  “How do you know they’re German planes?” Mother asked.

  “They’re coming from the east. Can’t you hear?” Father snapped.

  The border was to the east. Why wasn’t the new house ready? We’d be safe there. Mother had said so.

  Father turned on the radio. The doorbell rang, and the Gans family stormed in. “What does the radio say?” “War, isn’t it? We knew it.” “What, the Germans are also in Belgium and Luxembourg?”

  “Sophie, what are you doing?” Father asked.

  Mother was taking silver from a drawer. “We have to hide it,” she said. “They’ll come and take it from us.”

  “Goddammit, stuff it back in the drawer.”

  “I’m going to bed,” Rachel said, “and I’ll stay in bed till the war’s over.”

  “How long will that be?” I asked.

  “Can’t last more than a few days,” Rachel answered.

  Father laughed. But his face scared me.

  When it was light and the noise had stopped, we went outside. Our house was a few blocks away from the marketplace, the real center of town. Rachel held my hand tightly. She hadn’t gone to bed. We met several people who looked just as bewildered as we did. At the marketplace we stopped. German tanks were there, and German soldiers. In the same area where twice a week flowers were sold… tulips in the spring, roses in the summer.

  Shivering, we leaned against the church wall. Grandmother, Uncle Phil, Aunt Billa, and my cousin Hannie were there, too. We looked at each other, but said nothing.

  Several men were handing out cigars to the soldiers and slapping them on their shoulders.

  “Why are they doing that?” I asked Rachel.

  “They’re Nazis,” she whispered, “people who think like Hitler. NSB-ers we call them in Holland.”

  One of them walked over to Mrs. Gans. “Aren’t they nice boys?” he asked. “Don’t look so scared. They won’t do a thing to you.” He turned around and winked at one of the soldiers.

  The soldier asked him something. “The shortest route to Enschede?” the NSB-er repeated. “First road to your left. That’ll get you there. Hurry up. Here, take another cigar for the road.” He closed the box. It was empty. On his way p
ast us, he spat at our feet.

  As we walked home, I asked Rachel why he had done that… spat at us. Because we were Jews, she said. But he wasn’t German, and how did he know we were Jews? I asked. We looked different, she answered, darker. Rachel knew so much. No wonder she was a teacher. When I got home, I was going to see how different I looked.

  Hitler did it again. He must have a great many soldiers, for now they were all over France, too. But nothing had happened to us that summer: no stealing, no beatings, nothing. Maybe Hitler liked Dutch Jews better than he did the others.

  On clear nights Father sat with the Gans family again. “Jews here won’t be bothered,” the Gans son said, “not in this country.”

  I liked what he said. But Hitler must have changed his mind about liking Dutch Jews because in September Father was no longer allowed to do business. He read about it on a big poster that was stuck on a tree in the middle of the marketplace. He didn’t care, he said, and went to the farmers anyway, but not to all his customers. He only went to those who liked Jews, and who wouldn’t tell the Germans that Father still came to them to buy and sell cows. He got into the habit of stopping every day at that tree to see whether there were new notices. I wished the house was ready. Building it was taking an awfully long time.

  Early in October, Marie came into the living room, closed the door, and stood against it. “Mrs. de Leeuw,” she said nervously, “I have to tell you something.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m so miserable because of it. If you knew how I felt.”