Luick-Thrams, Michael : "Creating 'New Americans': WWII-Era European Refugees' Formation of American Identities"

Part I: Persecution, Flight and Reception of WWII-era Refugees

A fundamental criterion in offering the Scattergood Hostel refugees in specific as "representative" of WWII-era European refugees in general is the degree to which they proved "typical"-the degree to which their experiences reflected those common to the basic types of refugees of that period: political refugees, exiled artists, intellectuals, religious dissenters, "non-Aryans" and refugees from Nazi occupation. Also, the hostel itself must be compared with other kinds of residential refugee centers of its time in order to identify which of its traits reoccured elsewhere. To those ends Part I examines first the persecution and flight of refugees from Nazi-occupied Europe in general, with examples of Scattergood Hostel refugees woven into it. It is a summary of a theme that could be a dissertation in itself but here will be only sketched, as the goal of this work is not to recap the rise and impact of the Nazis, but rather to explain, illustrate and analyze the formation of new identities on the parts of persons who fled them. Second, by outlining the basic types of residential programs-rest homes, agricultural projects, boarding schools, hostels and government-sponsored camps-in which other refugees found reception, one can gain a better sense of how similar or unique Quakers efforts at integration and assimilation were. To identify Scattergood Hostel's significance, one must hold it in the light of its historical context; to understand its legacy, one must sift meaning from small, subtle signs found in its day-to-day routine as well as in singular events which took place there and compare it with other centers.

Chapter 1 Persecution and Flight of WWII-era Refugees

General Comments

The creation of refugees in Nazi-occupied Europe closely followed political developments. Of those who successfully fled, they not only came from various backgrounds, but encountered different routes of escape, varied reception and a range of possible options for the future. Mainly, such people consisted of political opponents of Nationalsozialismus, various artists and intellectuals unwilling to be conform to touted "German" images of art or culture, religious dissenters, individuals of "non-Aryan" origin and persons fleeing Nazi-occupied territories. Each of these catagories is represented by two (as in the case of religious dissenters) or more refugees who landed at Scattergood Hostel: documented cases of persons fleeing due to primarily political convictions consist of 15, the term "artist" or "intellectual" could be applied to at least 30 of the refugees and 25 persons fled non-German-speaking, Nazi-occupied regions [including multi-lingual Czech provinces]. "Non-Aryans" are difficult to count, depending upon what definition one uses. The bogus nature of Nazi concepts of "race" disqualify them from use and many of the "Jews" belonged either to mixed marriages, were atheists or practicing Christians. Also, Quaker staff at the time did not always record refugees' religious affiliation and surviving staff resisted "naming names", deeming such information as "unimportant". Still, 107 of the 185 refugees who were at Scattergood Hostel are known to have been either practicing or "ethnic" Jews.

Just as a reliable, precise number of "non-Aryans" who sojourned at Scattergood Hostel alludes use in this study, historians have failed to reach a concrete figure of Jews among refugees fleeing "Greater Germany" (including annexed Austria) generally. Already soon after the event, sources disagreed over the number of Jews who fled Greater Germany, with one having admitted that "the exact number of Jewish and non-Jewish immigrants is not known" since the Immigration and Naturalization Service did not classify migrants by religion. During the period from June 1933 through 1944, however, the INS did classify by race and labeled one group "Hebrew". During that time 78,189 (76%) of arrivees from Germany and Austria were so classified.<9> Another claimed that from "51.5" to "67.6%" of the estimated total number of refugees from Nazi Europe were Jews-depending on which estimates of total immigration one used.<10> In his resignation letter, a one-time High Commissioner for Refugees placed the number of Jews among all refugees at 80%.<11> Yet another source held that Jews were 90% of all refugees from "Greater Germany" in Britain.<12>

If they do not provide an exhaustive sampling, the stories of persecution and flight of some Scattergood Hostel "guests" do reflect assorted experiences of the nameless thousands who survived but whose stories remain unrecorded, if not lost completely. Groups persecuted by the Nazis which are not documented as having been among at Scattergood Hostel include homosexuals, "asocials", the handicapped and "gypsies". The uncertainty regarding the first has-not surprisingly-much to do with social morés and conventions of that period. While two one-time refugees (an adult and a former child) alledged that a leading staff member was homosexual, none of the guests can be documented as sharing the same characteristic. A few of the personalities lend themselves to supposition-say, middle-age "bachelors" who showed traits commonly attributed to homosexuals or who made suggestive comments-yet listing them here as refugees escaping the Nazis' unmerciful persecution of sexual minorites would be academically as well as ethicially untenable. Thus, the number of primary catagories of persecuted refugees who fled Nazi-occupied Europe presented in this study remains at six.

References to Specific Examples

How could members of the main types of refugees fleeing Nazi-occupied Europe escape? Correspondingly, who were the "guests" at Scattergood Hostel-what were their names, gender or ages and what had been their professional and social backgrounds in Europe? From which countries did they come and under what conditions did they leave their homes? Although each of the 185 individual refugees at Scattergood had a unique tale of increasing misery under the Nazi regime and of eventual flight, it must suffice to examine the most telling experiences of a few, yet see them as representative of both general travails and particular problems facing the WWII-era European refugees as a whole. The following cases woven into the wider context of refugees of their "type" are included here, then, as illustrative, not definitive.

Political Refugees

Political developments inside what as of March 1933 became the Third Reich fundamentally dictated emigration patterns, numbers and destinations of refugees fleeing Nazi persecution. Since their inception, Nationsozialisten had shown boiling contempt for their political opponents-indeed, for the very political process itself. Hitler had argued since his obscure beer-hall days that it had been Jews (i.e., those holding government posts), Sozialdemokraten and "pascifists" who had "betrayed" Germany in the last days of the Hohenzollern dynasty. For the Nazis such individuals had no place in a "New Germany" and would face ugly fates should the Nazis command power.

Even before the Machtergreifung, Brown Shirts and supporters of the Kommunisten-as well as other political factions-slugged it out literally in the streets in an open struggle for the "hearts and minds" of German voters preceding the numerous elections in the shaky late Weimarer Republik. In such a climate, public officials and political candidates became targets of hate and often violence-as did left-leaning or liberal newspaper editors and staff, office workers of opposing party headquarters, etc. Club-welding Nazi thugs repeatedly clashed with supporters of opposing political parties or ideologies; once the Nazis succeeded in taking possession of the German government, they wasted little time in settling old scores. Already in 1929 Goebbels had remarked that capital punishment shouldn't be reserved only for murders, but also for "profiteers, traitors to the Vaterland and violators of the honor and of the existence of the Volk": "Whoever deserves death should have it. Whoever cries against such an act is immediately suspected of also deserving it".<13> To cite but one example of Nazi score-settling: before Adolf Hitler came to power, the baker's apprentice Siegbert Kindermann had been attacked by Nazi thugs. A member of the Bar Kochba Jewish Sports Society, he cooperated with legal authorities so that his attackers were brought to court and convicted. On 18 March 1933 he was taken to a SS barracks in Berlin and beaten to death; his body was then thrown out of a window into the street and "those who found his body discovered that a large swastika had been cut into his chest".<14>

At the same time, many of those the Nazis wanted to eliminate wasted little time disappearing once Germany's turn to dictatorship became final. Even as the ballots of the 5 March 1933 election were being counted, leading left and centrist political figures began preparing for exile. As soon as the results were in, the choices became unsettlingly clear: exit-hastily-or become a statistic. Given such a scenario, many political opponents of Nazism chose to flee rather than perish. The problem was, they often were unsure where to find secure, long-term refuge or how to get there. They were certain of only one thing: get out of the New Germany-and as soon as possible.<15>

In the first wave of German emigration following the Nazis' assession to power-which consisted predominantly of political dissidents and artists- countries absorbing the largest numbers of refugees included France (21,250 by April 1934),<16> Palestine (10,000), Poland (8,750), Czechoslovakia (3,500),<17> Holland (2,500) and Switzerland.<18> Sources estimate that in April 1933 England had absorbed some 2,000-although this may have been lower than the actual figure.<19> The League of Nations' figures indicate that some 65,000 individuals fled Germany from 1933 to the end of 1935. That number included 40-45,000 Jews, 5-6,000 Sozialdemokraten, 6-8,000 Kommunisten, 2,000 "pacifists", 1,000 Catholics and some 2,000 individuals not fitting in specific categories. Till 1935 the majority of those fleeing Germany did so for reasons other than "racial"- including individuals of Jewish descent who fled as political opponents of Nazism.<20> Of those who left, by July 1939 10,882 had been "de-naturalized" per Hitler's personal order.<21> With denaturalization came the loss of passport and property, the cancellation of academic degrees and inheritance, withdrawal of public or private assistance and the categorization of being a "criminal".<22> In such conditions many a refugee applied for residency abroad-only to discover that she or he officially had become "stateless".<23>

In some respects, many of the political refugees from Nazi Germany became "stateless" well before Hitler ever got around to officially declaring them to be so. A prime example of such refugees consists of Marie Juchacz, a staunch Sozialdemokrat, founder of the Arbeiterwohlfahrt (a workers' welfare agency) and the first female member of the post-WWI German parliament. She served in that contentious house from its inception under the Weimarer Republik till its emasculation in 1933. To avoid persecution and internment under the brutal new Nazi regime, Juchacz left Berlin as Hitler took power in March 1933. She retreated first to Saarbrücken, where the 54-year-old woman created a refuge for former party and Reichstag members. When a plebiscite returned the Saarland to Germany in 1935, she moved across the German border to Mulhouse in Alsace, so that her "connection with the homeland through personal contacts could be maintained".<24> In France Juchacz found herself running a household full of fellow emigrants. With war's outbreak in September 1939 she moved to the next station of her involuntary journey-a small village in the South of France. When it became clear after the occupation of north France, however, that the German Führer wanted de facto tenancy of Vichy territories, she and her little band planned to flee once more-this time over the Pyrenees. The Vichy government finally granted Juchacz an exit visa in March 1941 and sailed to the French Antilles island of Martinique, where she waited several months before receiving permission to pass on to her next destination, New York. There she set about her on-going, self-appointed task of helping her fellow émigrés.<25>

At the same time that future Scattergood Hostel resident Marie Juchacz was working her way point-by-point from the plains of Prussia to the prairies of Iowa, other political figures in Nazi Germany were immersed in escape actions of their own. Some political enemies of the Nazis', however, fled likely persecution, imprisonment or possible death through routes other than that chosen by Juchacz-two primary ones being via Prague or Paris. Such was the case of Ernst and Ilse Stahl,<26> who were "black sheep...political refugees and from the very left side".<27> A Breslau native, he had supported the Spartacus movement in the months following the collapse of the Hohenzollern dynasty and served time in a Weimarer Republik prison for running guns during the Kommunisten's attempt to plant a Soviet republic on German soil. Ernst and Ilse Stahl's leftist political convictions and activist past provided amble reason for the Nazis to want to persecute them both. Already before the burning of the Reichstag, police came searching for Ernst Stahl-who fled out a back window and through the attached attics of Hinterhäusern behind his and wife's flat while Ilse Stahl stalled the pushy police officers at the front door.

Upon Ernst Stahl's escape, other members of the communist cell to which they belonged informed Ilse Stahl that "nobody knew her":

All people, all our friends-they are not to know us, because [the Nazis] search for Ernst. So when I saw somebody approaching, I would not make 'hello': I would look straight and sometimes even a little bit to the other side in order not to be tempted. Other friends did the same-that was our rule: that we would not give one friend through another friend to the police. So, I was totally isolated by choice, more or less. Because that was our rule and we followed our rules.<28>

Unbeknownst to Ilse Stahl, her husband set out for France by walking across the Thuringer mountains to Czechoslovakia, using a false passport. The Nazis detained him and a companion on the border-charging them with espionage and other "crimes against the state", even though they remained unaware of whom they had in their custody. Although Ernst Stahl could not drive and spoke "very bad French", he eventually won his freedom by posing as the chauffeur of the mayor of Strausbourg, who cooperated by writing a letter of inquiry and support on his behalf.

In the meantime, Ilse Stahl led a precarious, dangerous life in Berlin in constant fear and without means of economic support. The police ordered her to register with them daily and she simply bid her time until she received word from her husband and could flee Germany herself. The British chapter of the Salvation Army often fed her, as she was undernourished and "just was tumbling over...and weighed less than 80 pounds and had to walk three miles to work every day". Despite being marginalized professionally-and thereby economically-as an "enemy of the people", Ilse Stahl found a job washing car windows until receiving retraining and finding employment as an apprentice in an "Aryanized" Jewish-owned lithograph-picture plant. Through legal trickery, she eventually got forged papers and made her way to the Rheinland, where she arranged illegal passage into France via a valley along Germany's western border. With her clothes held in a bag above her head, she and the guide-who "comrades" had organized to smuggle her out of the country- waded breast-deep through a marsh in order to reach French territory. Once both of them were in France, the Stahls spent six months in Strasbourg and a teachers' union took "good care" of them until they moved on to Paris. When the Wehrmacht rolled into France in spring 1940, they fled once again and kept running-till via Spain and Portugal they reached New York and later a most unlikely destination, Iowa.

The Stahls were not the only German political dissidents to use France as an escape route. A Jew, Julius Lichtenstein irritated the Nazis most of all because of his political convictions. A judge in Limburg, he moved his family to Paris in late March 1933-having been already in prison for his politically activism, ignoring house arrest and going to "court and continuing to sentence the young thugs [the Nazis] were using to intimidate".<29> Once established in the French capital, Lichtenstein and his converted "Bavarian-Lutheran" wife Elizabeth did not withdraw from political activism. Rather, their home became a political center visited by volunteers on their way to fight Fascists in Spain. Daughter Edith [Lichtenstein] Morgan heard "lots of political discussions" as a child and understood that

'if we stopped them in Spain we might have a chance', because [the Nazis] were using that as a testing ground: if nobody did anything, then they figured they had it made. If we had stuck with the agreements we made with the various alliances to support the democratic government in Spain, maybe that would have been enough of a message.<30>

Once international armed conflict in Europe erupted, however, the life the Lichtensteins had known as resident refugees in Paris came to an end. Julius Lichtenstein fled soon after the declaration of war to avoid landing in a French camp. In the course of trying to save her children from the on-coming Germans some ten months later, his wife and their children set out on foot and headed south in the hopes that they could stay ahead of the Wehrmacht, but usually were not more than 15 or 20 kilometers ahead of them-"and walking!" The Lichtensteins remaining in France walked south to Limoges, where they stopped as the armistice was signed, then later made their way to Marseilles, where they eventually rejoined their activist husband and father.

Other political opponents of Nazism who later landed at Scattergood Hostel also stumbled across some luck in their attempt to flee dangerous Europe, for despite whatever travails they might have encountered along the way, at least they survived to tell about their adversities in exile. Whether or not they had sojourned since their hasty departure from Germany, those refugees who fled the Third Reich early in its existence enjoyed advantages that later ones did not. Namely, although the circumstances of departure with their "discouraging and harassing bureaucratic procedures" certainly were bad enough, but

refugees who fled in 1933 or a little later (that is to say the prominent people), had not experienced the exhausting anti-chambers of consulates and shipping firms, the queuing for police and finance offices or the customs office's clearance of property [for] the longer one waited, the greater the robbery was.<31>

That belonged to the everyday-life experiences of refugees as of approximately 1935. The later their flight from the Third Reich, the more refugees sacrificed in terms of property and possessions-as well as the "psychological burdens" connected with abandoning one's homeland and native culture. In contrast to the majority of those who had fled soon after Hitler's seizure of power, later emigrants experienced discrimnatin and discouragement, with most also experiencing the loss of profession and work, mistreatment and concentration camp imprisonment. After the Novemberpogrom of 1938, emigration no longer was "the alternative to persecution, but connected to terrifying recognitions".<32>

Indeed, among the 15 guests at Scattergood Hostel identitified as having been political refugees, all are recorded as having left Nazi-occupied areas soon after the Nazis seized control. That did not mean that such individuals immediately found a new Heimat. To the contrary, none of them stayed in the first country in which they initially found refugee and most of them sojourned in two if not three or more host countries enroute to their final stop, the United States. Rather than German, the children of political refugees more often than not had learned French or some other European tongue as a street language. In fact, by the time they had reached Scattergood Hostel, between them the children of political refugees at the hostel had attended schools in Germany, Austria, the Netherlands, Switzerland, France, Czechoslovakia, England, Poland, Italy, Belgium, Spain, Morroco and Cuba-among others!

The obstensive reason why the children had fled their homelands in the first place, however, involved their parents. As recounted, Marie Juchacz was the founder of the Arbeiterwohlfahrt and a member of the Reichstag-as was Leipzig native Paul Frölich. While Ernst and Ilse Stahl had not held political office, they had held political posts in the Kommunist party and had been key members in their local Kader. Similarly, Julius and Elizabeth Lichtenstein had been political activists-but non-aligned ones. Other politicos at the hostel included the former secretary of Dresden's Sozialdemokraten Gertrude Hesse, Vienna's Stadtrat member Fritz Schorsch, Berliner Senat statistician Kurt Schaefer, left-wing editor Ludwig Hacke, labor activisit Marta Schmidl and Robert Keller, a provincial SPD party director in Halle. Each of them had been subjected to Nazi persecution and each of them had passed through more than one country in their respective flights from occupied Europe. As political refugees, they were closely followed in their exit by artists and intellectuals who could not co-exist with the Nazi regime.

Exiled Artists

Although the democratic election which legally handed the reins of power to dictatorial thugs took place only three weeks before, already on 28 March 1933 Minister of Propaganda Goebbels gave a talk at Berlin's Kaiserhof in front of the Dachorganisation der deutschen Filmschaffenden (DACHO) in which he outlined "German" uses and goals for "German" film in the "New Germany"-claiming that while "art is free" in the Third Reich, "it must get used to certain norms".<33> Similiarly, Goebbel's boss Adolf Hitler also dabbled in culture-in turn dictating "Aryan" cultural standards, commenting on visual arts or approving architectural projects planned for the made-over capital of the 1,000-year Reich, "Germania".<34> Indeed, the Führer had his own sculptor (Josef Thorak) and his favorite conductor (Wilhelm Furtwängler), his official film-maker (Leni Riefenstahl) and his approved architect (Speer). In fact, soon after he became Kanzler Hitler created the Reichskulturkammer ("Imperial Chamber of Culture") under Goebbel's directorship. Later, at the Greater Germany Art Exhibition in Munich in 1936, the Nazi "school" went so far as to offer its own version of "Aryan" art-in contrast to the sampling of "degenerate" art which it showed in a nearby building to much bigger and more enthusiastic crowds. At the same time, the Nazis decried jazz (what they deemed "nigger music"), as well as jazz' later off-shoot, swing.<35> Theater, too, became an organ of the regime's progaganda machine, with stage productions mirroring the regime's values and agenda.<36> In short, Nazis well understood the innate social-ergo political-message behind various forms of cultural expression. Thus, they made it a priority to censor, control and cultivate art at all levels and use it as an effective tool to sway the masses and curb dissent.<37>

Artists in Germany saw the threat behind the Nazis' squawking about "decency" verses "degenercy"-behind their muscle-man and doting-maiden statues, behind their ideologically loaded films and their singing of stylized nationalistic hymns, behind their rewritten schoolbooks and their tampered texts in the sciences or the humanities at universities. In those pre-television days the written word remained a dominant means of mass communication;<38> thus the Nazis targeted especially writers in their feverish campaign to control public opinion-and writers quickly felt the pressure.<39> Already in 1933 the Prussian Academy of Arts Poetry Division's president Heinrich Mann wrote in Der Haß' hat a "violent, loud-mouthed minority" had succeeded in "conquering the country, if not the people" of Germany.<40> His nephew Klaus<41> went further, explaining from exile that whether or not German émigrés liked admitting it, they knew that the dictatorship was popular among the masses: they did not, however, want to admit it, so maintained the opposite, that

'Hitler is not Germany'...The 'real' Germany, the 'better' one was against tyranny -we obstinately assured the world. In our articles and manifestos the German opposition took on tremendous dimensions. It was millions -we insisted-who risked life and freedom in the struggle against the hated system. We did not fib: we believed. Our real-if naive-belief in the strength and heroism of the domestic resistance movement gave us the moral stability, the lift which we in our isolation and helplessness so desperately needed.<42>

The Manns and others engaged in cultural creativity-in art-saw beyond the hollow facades the Nationalsozialisten so adeptly sold to the masses and they wanted no part of it. And, many did not stay. They resigned themselves to the only choice they saw remaining: to leave.<43> If, that is, the choice had not already been made for them.

Where did the distinction lie between "choosing" to leave Nazi Germany and being "shown the door"? German detractors claimed that actress Marlene Dietrich-for example-chose to emigrate to the U.S. and betrayed Germany by performing in anti-Nazi propaganda films; if one allowed creative energies to be proscribed from a central, ambitious authority, though, what kind of life was that supposed to be? Some writers who remained in Germany throughout the Hitler years argued that their flown colleagues should have stayed and fought Nazism from within; many of them

overlooked the fact, however, that for the clear majority of the emigrated writers there was no choice between the two possibilities-flee or stay. Morover, the majority of the exiles had to see to their own way which escaped arrest or total banishment.<44>

To remain in Nazi Germany and be an artist meant either accepting the implicit gagging of individual creative freedom or opening oneself to an ugly array of "visits" to or from ill-intentioned officials. In such a cramped, stifling atmosphere, artists could create little of real artistic value.

While some artists "chose" to leave, others did so only under duress. One of the latter was Grete Baeck<45>-who received a telephone call late one evening soon after the Nazis' Machtergreifung in spring 1933. The caller told her to catch the next train for her native Vienna. Sensing danger, she did. A Jew and a leading actress at the German capital's left-leaning Volksbühne theater, Baeck fled so swiftly with a single bag that she had not even time to locate and tell her "Aryan" army-officer husband of three years of her going.<46>

Landing in her native Vienna, Baeck re-established herself, so at least there were some compensations. She had some money and was

back home again. Grete [had always been] a foreigner in Germany; she was always made to feel it. Austria was home... The Vienna theater was still prosperous and it welcomed [her]. In her work she could forget some of the heartaches.

She could not, however, forget them all. For one, she finally received word from her husband: they should meet on the mountainous German-Austrian border. After an eight-hour climb, they did-with border guards listening to every word. They agreed to annul their marriage, for it would have been sure suicide for her to return to and professional death for him to leave Germany.

With the German Anschluß of Austria in March 1938, Baeck lost even more. The large mountain home she renovated after fleeing Berlin and all her money remained behind when she fled to Prague, where "the flame of the theater still burned brightly". A new member of the growing list of exiled Germans and Austrians in the Czechoslovak capital, she found herself amidst numerous dramatic greats. Others with whom she had performed in Berlin, though, already had removed themselves to America-Peter Lorre and Lionel Royce to name two. Baeck resisted following them because she had never learned English "for no other reason than she just didn't care to. She knew French, German, Italian, Czech and Hungarian well. Not a word of English". Eventually, Baeck's decision was made for her. In September 1938 Britain and France sacrificed the so-called Sudetenland of Czechoslovakia to Hitler and Baeck fled Prague for Paris, where after a fortnight she secured passage to New York. Landing with $3 in her pocket and no knowledge of English, she turned for help to the Quakers, who sent her to Scattergood Hostel, hopeful that she could more quickly find the keys to acculturation living among rural folk in Iowa than running among urbane German speakers in Manhattan.

While Grete Baeck had fled immediately upon a tip from a friend, Boris Jaffe left the Third Reich resistingly and at the very last moment upon threats from the Nazis. Russian-born, he had served the Czar as an army officer in the first World War until he was wounded, captured and interned in northeast Germany.<47> Later, after the Bolsheviks overran the Russian government, Jaffe remained in Germany rather than face the communists in Russia; he became regional distributor of American films in Germany for Warner Brothers and married a Lithuanian-born Jewess. By 1933 the couple had three young children and had moved into a comfortable house in the outskirts of Berlin.

This enviable life could well have continued, except that with the advent of Nazi dictatorship Jaffe found himself increasingly persecuted. Although the son of Jewish parents, he had always claimed his religious affiliation as "Greek Catholic"; a Jewish wife, however, meant Jaffe was the father of three children unescapably held in contempt by those in power and as a Russian he himself always would be seen as an Untermensch. On top of that, given that he peddled films from Hollywood labeled by the Nazis as "decadent", Jaffe's career was slowly wrested away from him by a series of Nazi decrees. Warner Brothers soon discontinued its operations in Germany but sent Jaffe a stipend for several years, although he already had begun work for smaller firms.

Jaffe received the first notice from the Berlin police ordering him to leave the country in 1937 but somehow lingered on eighteen more months, leaving on 27 October 1939-five days after his daughter turned seven and only two days before his visa expired. Riding a train to Copenhagen and then a steamship to New York, 47-year-old Jaffe took a prized photo album with him but left his family behind-likely either because of the prohibitive $200-per-ticket trans-Atlantic passage or due to successfully restrictive immigration laws.<48> The album was filled with "crinkled-edged, black-and-white pictures of picnics and parties, boys dressed in Lederhosen and a dimpled, curly-haired Tamara clad in ruffles". As one biographer later put it: "For more than six years, [it] would be the only family he had" upon landing in New York, alone.<49>

Technically a Jew, a Slav and a "dealer of decadence", Boris Jaffe had been forced to leave Berlin due to professional and "racial" unacceptability. On the other end of "Greater Germany" in the former capital of a former country, Viktor Popper of Vienna did not fit into the New Germany for similar reasons. Although persecuted primarily not as an artist but rather as a Jew, Popper's story nonetheless illustrates the impact of Nazi persecution on artists and the arts-by banning Jews from participating in the cultural life around them or from attending artistic events and confiscating the tools of their craft.

Born in "very comfortable circumstances" to a wealthy family, as a child Popper enjoyed the amenities of having an English governess-and thereby learned to speak her language "without accent, and very nearly perfectly".<50> He passed through Hochschule and Technische Hochschule to the Universität Wien with plans to be an engineer. A serious illness and the handicap of a nearly hunched back, however, made him change his mind in favor of a career in music, "less because it was necessary...to earn a living than because [he loved] music, and...wanted to make others love and understand it, too". Popper initially experienced difficulty, but then more and more pupils sought him out. In turn, he himself became the pupil of two renowned psychologists who shared his interest in music. Thus he began dividing his life between these two interests, with four or five evenings a week spent at the opera or in concert halls and Sunday afternoons at a gathering of amateur musicians. He also visited musical festivals such as those held in Bayreuth and Salzburg, and began a doctorate degree in music at the Universität. All seemed set.

Then the German Nazis arrived and Austria disappeared-along with Popper's dreams, for he was a Jew. First, he could no longer instruct "Aryan" pupils, then the Universität closed its door to him, as did the opera and concert halls soon after. Finally, more and more public spaces became off-limits to Jews till the situation degenerated to the point where even in conversation with an American, Popper had to admit: "Oh, yes, I know the movie of which you are speaking; I read reviews of it. But I didn't see it, for it appeared in Vienna after the moving-picture theatres were closed to non-Aryans". On top other insults, Popper had to move from his comfortable flat. He took his mother to live in a smaller one in a poor quarter of the city, but "as it would be too great a concession" to have let him stay there he had to move yet again, to an even smaller accommodation. In the process Popper had to part with many of his possessions until he was stripped of nearly everything he once had owned. Worse, he was informed that he soon would be "transported" to Poland, which Popper knew "meant slow starvation under unthinkable living conditions".

Nazi officials were not averse to bribes, however, so Popper escaped that fate and wrote letters until he secured an affidavit from an American willing to be legally responsible for his keep. Once he received his quota number, he packed his belongings-"music and books and a few personal effects"-but to conserve space he tore apart some of the books, removing bindings and whole sections in order to keep only what he could not part with. As he was forbidden to take money with him, he packed along a few pieces of silver. Popper also left behind his library of opera scores, manuscripts of compositions, symphonies and chamber music-"making a careful and totally unsatisfactory selection". As for his grand piano, that already had been "abandoned".

While making these preparations to leave what once had been Austria, Popper read in the newspaper that the ship on which his brother, sister-in-law and their children had been sailing to Palestine was sunk in the harbor of Tel Aviv-within sight of land. He had not seen that brother for more than a year, as when he left for Czechoslovakia it had been in a sealed train. Despite that Popper had stood for hours at a station through which the train was to pass in the middle of the night "in the faint hope of catching a glimpse" of the brother from behind locked windows. Popper chose not to tell his mother about the loss of her other son, thinking that his own departure was enough for her to bear-although it was she who had bid him to leave, reasoning that he was in greatest danger. Just before his departure, though, word from Switzerland came that the brother and his family had "miraculously escaped drowning" and were among the few to save themselves by swimming ashore-only to land in an internment camp. The news reassured Popper and with it he allayed part of his mother's anxiety. His own leave-taking, though, remained dramatic enough, given that he had to travel several days in a sealed train from Vienna via Berlin and Paris to Madrid, then later on to Lisbon. After several days of impatient waiting and trying to arrange the shipment of the trunk carrying his music and books, he finally secured passage to New York.

Intellectuals

Like artists, after the Machtergreifung of March 1933 intellectuals soon found themselves subject to unbending criteria of "acceptability" under the new regime. Already on 7 April a "Law for the Reconstruction of the Civil Service" allowed the Nationalsozialist dictatorship to release all civil servants who due to political or ethnic reasons did not fit Nazi criteria. The four grounds given for dismissal consisted of: 1.) past membership in the communist party, 2.) likelihood of future socialist or communist involvement, 3.) the lack of a "guarantee" that in the future the individual in question would represent the Nationalsozialist state "without hesitation" and 4.) "non-Aryan" origin. Clause #4 did not apply to veterans who had fought in the World War, to the fathers and sons of such veterans or to civil servants who had entered the civil service before 1 August 1914. Such exceptions, however, were elimiated in November 1935 when the criteria for civil service were raised. In January 1937 further grounds for dismissal became the failure to swear an oath of allegiance to the Führer or being married to individuals of "non-German or related blood".<51> The law especially targeted Jews, who-although constituting less than one percent of the German population-held 12% of all university professorships.<52>

As university professors in Germany were and still are civil servants of the state, the law meant the forced "retirement" of thousands of intellectuals. Many of them were well-known and respected in their fields-some had even earned Noble Prizes. The Nazis' policy of dismissal more than decimated the ranks of those staffing the country's universities. The numbers of those affected staggered the minds of critics of such actions both in Germany and abroad. During winter semester 1934-35 alone, 1,145 (14.34%) of the whole teaching body of German universities or technical high schools lost their posts. In 1938, sources estimated that one-third of all those holding such positions had been dismissed, forced into retirement or replaced; by 1939, supposedly 45% of pre-Hitler post-secondary posts had been "reoccupied".<53> Those who had been dismissed experienced great difficulty in finding new positions-for the same reasons that they had been dismissed in the first place. Specialists such as economists, chemists or physists-for example-perhaps could find new employment with industry or in related branches. Intellectuals from the social sciences, however,

with their seldom practically applicable knowledge...bumped into great difficulties. In their case, dismissal often meant that previous university instructors had to do unfamiliar work and begin an entirely new existence.<54>

Of course, intellectuals occupied not only lecture halls or university laboratories. Figures prominent in private- or state-funded research institutes, industrial associations, leading Stiftungen (foundations) or other centers of advanced thought fell under the scrutiny of Nazi standards of "acceptability", "correctness" and "German-ness". Mathematicians,<55> chemists,<56> biologists,<57> physicists,<58> engineers, medical specialists, lawyers or judges, journalists<59> or other highly trained professionals who for political or "racial" reasons did not pass in the "New Germany" found their lives threatened professionally if not ruined completely. The Nazi regime rooted out intellectual political dissidents and, over time, enacted increasingly restrictive laws which expelled Jews from law or medical practices, dentistry, journalism and eventually all other professions. Those professional intellectuals who could, adapted to the new conditions in order to survive. Ultimately, however, many of them found the intellectual as well as social climate under Nazism a fate approaching death. Those dissenting intellectuals in the Third Reich who reflexively accepted self-censorship often encountered "ever-growing difficulties". One of their own kind indicted intellectuals for "treason to their destiny" and accused them of "betraying the very moral principles which made their existence possible". In a modern society such as early-20th-century Germany, one trend involved the transformation of the intellectual into a functionary of the society through a process of creeping "bureaucratization" which extended "unquestionably" to the intelligentsia, whose "Socratic funtion" became endangered and thus

defenders of the status quo. It is this change in the status of the intellectual and the change in the social environment which makes the transfer from one to another national culture so difficult a process. This trend culminates in the totalitarian state [which] cannot be satisfied with the control of the traditional means of coercion.<60>

If it were to exist as a dictatorial system, the Nationalsozialist state had to exercise considerable control over its subjects' thoughts-so it transformed culture into propaganda. Few self-respecting intellectuals could withstand the systematic degradation of thought, yet inner emancipation under such dire, draconian conditions meant total renunciation of intellectual activity. This kind of "escape" came to be called an "inner emigration".<61> One intellectual who fled abroad saw limits to such a response and after Fascism's fall asked "What are the intellectual products of the inner emigrants of Germany and Italy?" and answered himself: "The answer must be: None," as the desks of the

inner emigrants were empty. There were no manuscripts written during dictatorship, hidden in desks and waiting to be published after the overthrow of the totalitarian régimes. This is not said to attack anti-Nazi intellectuals, but rather to explain why there was no intellectual production [in the Third Reich]; why the sole remedy for those intellectuals opposed to a totalitarian régime could be but physical emigration.<62>

"Physical emigration", however, entailed hardships and limitations of its own. If an intellectual surrendered his or her country, that individual did more than change residence. He or she also severed the Self from a historical tradition and definitive collective cultural experiences or contexts; also, such persons had to learn a new language fluently enough to approach a level of articulate expression necessary to communicate the very ideas which distinguish "intellectuals" from "non-intellectuals". In short, such refugees had to create a totally new life: "It is not the loss of a profession, of property, of status-that alone and by itself is painful-but rather the weight of another national cultural" to which the refugee had to adapt. Emigration meant the risk of going into

an unfamiliar abyss which offered as little garauntee as inner emigration for some continuation of previous work and for further practice of intellectual tasks. This partially explains why the number of voluntary [German] emigrants was so low.<63>

Adjustment was even harder because emigration represented flight from an intolerable situtation. Hatred of Nationalsozialismus only complicated the psychological burdens attendant to emigration. "Political scholars" such as historians, sociologists, economists, political scientists, philosophers<64> or those in related fields were compelled to deal with "the brutal facts of politics". Specifically, political scholars faced

psychological difficulty; for being political, they fought-or should have fought- actively for a better, more decent political system. Being compelled to leave their homeland, they thus suffered the triple fate of being a displaced human being with property and family; a displaced scholar; and a displaced homo politicus.<65>

Still, despite the losses and complications, they went-and in droves. Of 104,098 individuals of "Greater Germany" who entered the U.S. between June 1933 and the end of 1941, 7,622 (7.3%) were classified as "professionals" by U.S. immigration authorities.<66> Later statistics, however, suggest a very different picture. One German study<67> claims that of that hundred and four thousand, approxiamately 500 were writers; in addition, the compilation says 1,500 musicians, 3,569 professors or teachers, 1,900 scientists, 702 "sculptors or artists" entered America from 1933 to 1944. Of the 7,622 known "professionals" from Germany or annexed Austria, 1,000 were classified as educators, 2,353 as medical personnel, 811 as lawyers, 465 as musicians, 296 as "plastic artists".<68>

The predominance of intellectuals among those who entered the U.S. from "Greater Germany" shows itself in the proportion of both professionals and families. Before 1933, immigrants to the U.S. were mostly under 40 and single men; in contrast after 1933 comprised a majority and many were over 40. Also, traditionally the bulk of immigrants consisted of unskilled or semi-skilled workers, with less than three percent consisting of professionals. After 1933, though, more than seven percent were professionals and less than a fourth were semi-skilled laborers.<69>

Whether or not they exaggerated their former positions, on average the refugees from Greater Germany were, indeed, better educated or trained than their predecessors. One study indicated that most of them had progressed beyond elementary school and that nearly half (44.3%) had attended schools equivalent to the American college level or had done graduate work. Indicative of the outstanding quality of the group, twelve had won Nobel Prizes and about a hundred of them had listed in Who's Who is America and over two hundred in American Men of Science despite the short time they had been in the U.S. at the time of the mentioned study.<70>

In addition to high levels of education attained by post-1933 immigrants, another feature which distinguished them from previous immigrants was the fact that intellectual refugees often made their way to the United States via one if not two or three countries enroute to their final stop. The Scattergood Hostel guests who might be designated as "professionals" or "intellectuals" illustrate the indirect succession of their migration to America. Limburg judge Julius Lichtenstein, for one, took his family to Switzerland and France soon after the Machtergreifung, before fleeing to the United States. Berlin Senat statistian Kurt Schaefer-to name another-spent almost half a decade in English and coooperated with British trade unions before moving to America. Vienna journalist Otto Bauer and his wife had to sojourn in Cuba until the U.S. State Department granted them entry visas. German-born painter and art teacher Ilse Stahl fled the Third Reich for France, where she joined her communist-activist husband, who had fled via Czechoslovakia. Economics student Ernst Malamerson lived in Italy, France and Switzerland before going to America.<71>

The last example cited entails a subset question regarding the flight of intellectuals from Europe to America during the Nazis' reign. At Scattergood, for example, 13 young refugee men had either interrupted or postponed their university studies in order to save their lives. Although they had not yet proven their intellectual powers, they possessed considerable intellectual potential -potential which sprouted but would not bloom on Old World soil. They are mentioned as would-be intellectuals, however, even if "exposure to American schools counteracted the foreign background of the young immigrants to degrees not always determined by age".<72> In fact, some of the oldest in this group, especially if-separated from their families in America as was true in Scattergood Hostel guests Ernst Malamerson's case-

made deliberate effort to remove any trace of their foreignness and became 'more American than Americans'. On the other hand, some of those who were too young to have been affected by the environment in their homeland developed European traits after coming [to America], under the influence of family traditions and habits and of family ties with Europe.<73>

The source of the above quote considered it "futile" to attempt to judge whether and to what extent the contributions of these "younger intellectuals" were determined by their European backgrounds, for measuring their "degree of Europeanness" would be an unwieldy assignment due to its subjectivity. Rather than "measuring" one rather should speak of "mixing", as their role as "mixers of cultures" seems more relevant: the essential fact remains that the wave of intellectuals set into motion by Nazi persecution carried numerous young men and women to America who later featured prominently on their host country's intellectual scene:

In the give-and-take between European and American cultural patrimonies, the taking was on the average greater and the giving smaller than in the case of the older [intellectual émigrés]. Yet, whether intentionally or not, they [became] a strong link between the two cultures.<74>

A cultural leaking of some of the greatest gray matter Germany had, the drain of intellectuals fleeing the Third Reich came at a crippling price to their native land. Although in adopting policies and blessing acts of repression or persecution which drove intellectuals abroad Hitler sought what many of his supporters wanted-a purge of Internationalisten who might weaken the Vaterland exactly as Germany tried to render the Versailles Treaty irrelevant and overcome the worldwide Depression-the Führer's actions were short-sighted and self-defeating, as the spectacle of "muses fleeing Hiter" can best be understood as "the manifestation of a demand for cultural homogeneity so strong that, in order to obtain it, the population was willing to forfeit creativity and excellence [at] price of the intellectual decapitation of Germany".<75>

Religious Dissenters

The Nazi regime not only attempted to force intellectuals and artists in the "New Germany" to fall into ideological line, but religious figures, too. As its own political survival was paramount to the cynical Nationalsozialisten, they justified all means to that end-even to the point of twisting public images of religion into perverse remnants of their former selves. While many clergy endured the bastardization of civil religion for fear of deadly retribution, a few found the courage to contradict the official dogma propagated by the Nazis. Of course, such individuals won first the contempt, then the wrath of the regime and either fled or were imprisoned-if not silenced through execution.

The disenchantment of religious dissenters in the Nazis' Third Reich, however, was neither universal nor immediate. At the beginning of Nazi rule numerous church leaders as well as lay of both Catholic and Evangelisch<76> bodies hoped that the new regime would repell "Red persecutions"; to Hitler they accorded the dubious status of "rescuer" who would allow the free exercise of religion.<77> Indeed, already on 21 March 1933-the Tag von Potsdam-Hitler and recently appointed Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda Goebbels attended mass; a day later, Hitler purported in the Reichstag that "Christianity would be the foundation for German culture and the German state".<78> In July of that year Hitler achieved a first diplomatic coup by striking with the Vatican the so-called Concordat,<79> in which the Nazis pledged the integrity of Catholicism and the autonomy of Catholic schools, youth groups and cultural societies-as long as they refrained from political engagement.

To Hitler's glee, a voluntary band which assumed the presumptuous name Deutsche Christen ("German Christians") lent its support to the new regime, which wished to co-opt them in hopes of unifying the 28 independent Lutheran Landeskirchen ("provincial churches") and various confessional groupings thereof into one Reichkirche ("imperial church"). Also alarming to leftist and centrist Lutherans was Hitler's appointment in late April 1933 of Ludwig Müller-an unknown East Prussian pastor-to a post dealing with Lutheran affairs. Many church figures found Deutsche Christen-sponsored moves to adopt an Arierparagraph as church policy unacceptable; that "Aryan clause" would have required all Lutheran clergy prove their racial "purity"-to document the lack of Jewish ancestry as far back as their grandparents. Most outrageous of all,<80> however, was the meeting of the Prussian Generalsynode in Berlin in September 1933, when the majority of the representatives appeared wearing Nazi uniforms. At that point, church chair Martin Niemöller called a Pfarrernotbund ("emergency union"), which won the support of more than a third of all Lutheran pastors;<81> in spring 1934 Niemoller and others founded the Bekennende Kirche ("Confessional Church"), which renounced the beliefs as well as goals of the Deutsche Christen and refused to obey Hitler-appointed bishops. In addition, members of the Bekennende Kirche declared Christian doctrine incompatible with the Nazi Weltanschauung. At that point began the Nazis' persecution of religious dissenters in ernest.

At first, Hitler decreed Nazi supremacy over the Lutheran church: he closed church-run schools and confiscated church property. Then, he forbade certain pastors from preaching and aimed to undermine Protestant opposition through a process of gradual erosion. While some pastors coalesced through fear, a few resisted. Bonn-theologian Karl Barth-for one-lost his post, as he refused to open his lectures each day by raising his arm and saying 'Heil Hitler!'<82> In Berlin, Niemöller came under arrest for sedition, yet was cleared of charges and released; he fell into unfriendly hands later, however, and landed in Sachsenhausen. Fellow pastor and counterspy Dietrich Bonhoeffer was charged with "subversion", imprisoned and shortly before the war's end executed. With time, then, the Lutheran church grew impotent and quiet.<83>

More than the likes of a Niemöller or a Bonhoeffer, though, suffered Nazi persecution as religious dissenters. Among them, two Scattergood Hostel guests fled Greater Germany primarily for religious reasons. One-Otto Bauer, a middle-aged Catholic "Religious Socialist"-fled Vienna in 1938 with his family. Another was Jewish-descended Franz Nathusius, a member of the Bekennende Kirche in Berlin who by 1940 made his way to the United States. Both men chose to face uncertainty abroad rather than Nazi wrath at home.

"Non-Aryans"

While the Nazis persecuted political opponents, "Aryan" as well as "non-Aryan" artists and religious dissenters with severity, their persecution of the Jews showed characteristics not found in that of the other groups. As Hilberg has emphasized, in contrast to the others, the persectution of Jews involved not just brown-shirted thugs with clubs, but an intricate array of "perpetrators" who collectively comprised the mechanics of systemized murder, as well as "bystanders" whose silent witness granted those more active a free hand. Of course the "perpetrator par excellence" was Adolf Hitler himself, as he led the whole action "as the leading architect", without whom it would have been

inconceivable. But even if Hitler had stood in the sidelights, the cooperation remained predominantely in the shadows, executed by countless usual functionaries and ambitious novices. At the head of leadership were also academicians, under whom were willing lawyers and doctors. As the process [of Jewish persecution] seized all of Europe, the machinery of annihilation became international, as then the governments and numerous collaborators in occupied countries played into German hands.<84>

Despite eventual collaboration in a pan-European pursuit to rid Europe of Jews-enthusiastically assisted, for example, by Polish peasants, French traitors or Hungarian police-the fact remains that persecution of the Jews in Nazi-occupied territories was endorsed, encouraged and orchestrated from Berlin. Indeed, the Nazis wasted no time in setting legal restrictions into effect once they took office. To provide just a sampling: already on 22 March 1933 the new government under Hitler established a department of "Racial Hygiene" within the Reich's Ministry of Interior. From 1 to 3 April the Nazis conducted a nationwide boycott of Jewish enterprises and on 7 April they declared a "Law for the Restoration of a Professional Civil Service"<85> which meant compulsory "retirement" for all Jewish civil servants and dismissal for Jewish workers or clerifical staff in public service. A "Law against the Overcrowding of German Schools and Universities" on 25 April limited the proportion of Jewish pupils or students to 1.5 percent of any one school's total population.<86> In July of the same year, all "oriental" Jews-i.e. from Russia or Poland-were stripped of German citizenship and in October 1933 Jews were expelled from journalism. As months, then years passed during which the Nazis enacted decree after law after regulation aimed at making life for "non-Ayrans" in lands under Berlin's rule unbearable if not impossible, the Nazis effectively elimited Jews from: owning residential properties, stores<87> and electrical, mechanical or optical appliances or equipment (including radios, phonographs, typewriters and cameras), marrying "Aryans", serving in the armed forces, practicing a profession, operating pharmacies, collecting insurance compensation or pensions, sending their children to public schools, participating in cultural events, swimming at public beaches, possessing precious metals or stones, jewelry or the license to drive a car, using public transportation, parks, sports facilities, air-raid shelters or telephones, sleeping in Liegewagen, keeping pets, riding bicycles, subscribing to newpapers or magazines, visiting either "Aryan" bookstores or public libraries, carrying weapons or sending carrier pigeons, attending exhibitions, theaters, films, concerts or fairs, patronizing cafés or "Aryan" hairdressers, selling old books, clothes or furniture on the open market, collecting over-time pay, expecting rent-rise control, registering a patent or appealing to courts or police for legal protection. In addition, Jews ultimately lost the use of rationing cards for cigarettes or staple food items as the war wore on and had to observe strict curfews and limited shopping hours. They also had to wear a "Star of David" and insert "Israel" or "Sara" as middle names and have a large "J" stamped into their passports-measures intended to further isolate and hinder Jews in Greater Germany.<88>

If various laws<89> aimed at stripping Jews of their wealth while shoving them to the margins of the wider society were longterm and relatively subtle, the cynically orchestrated<90> Kristallnachtpogrom<91> of 9-10 November was quick and unmistakably blunt. It marked a turning point in several respects-not only in the history of Nazi Germany. The violent assailing of Jewish property, persons and propriety meant "a regression to barbarism". In one night, "the achievements of the Enlightenment, the Emanzipation, the idea of the legal state and the concept of individual freedom" were despoiled. There had not been such Jewish persecution in Central Europe since the fifteenth century, when Medieval pogroms took place as

uncontrolled aggressions from assembled masses of people in which social and economic tensions were released against a background of religiously motivated animosity toward Jews. Before 9 November 1938 there had not been such an anti-semitic riot [so] orderly programmed and set into motion by state bodies.<92>

In the course of the efficient Nazi offensive against German Jewry, two days of nationwide madness resulted in the murder of 91 and the detention of 25,000-30,000 individuals, the ransacking of between 7,000 and 7,500 shops, the burning of 101 and demolition of 76 synagogues, and the ruining of thousands of Jewish homes or businesses.<93> An insult to injury, the regime demanded that the Jewish community "contribute" one billion Marks to aid in "repairs and clean-up". In its entirety, the event served as final notice to German Jews that they were unwanted in the "New Germany".<94>

Such relentless, in-humane, well-organized abuse overwhelms one's ability to grasp what Nazi persecution of the Jews meant on a daily, personal level to those who encountered it. The experiences of a few of the "non-Aryans" who eventually found a safe haven at Scattergood Hostel, however, personify it. Karl Liebman of Frankfurt-am-Main-for one-had been gassed by American doughboys at Verdun in 1918. Unexpectedly, that brush with a death in the armed forces saved his life two decades later. A former Leutnant of an artillery unit, following the first World War, Liebman "tried his hand at several business enterprises" before passing law exams and being accepted into a firm.<95> On 1 April 1933, however, he went to work in the morning to find a boy Brown Shirt standing beside his office door. Neither said a word, "but that was Liebman's introduction to the fact that Adolf Hitler had come to power". Soon thereafter the law firm received rules dictated by central powers; subsequently some members of the firm were forbidden to practice because they were Jews. Liebman, however, "was shown special consideration". First, although his father was a Jew, his American-born mother was a Christian-as was he. Second, as a medaled veteran he "had friends in the army" so that after being deprived of the legal right to practice law, he remained employed as a law clerk. Due to his military connections he never saw "what the inside of a concentration camp looked like". Instead, Liebman "only felt the fear, the ever-present, gnawing, looming threat of violence, of nameless terror reserved by the Nazis for the Jews". At night in the building where he and his wife lived he could hear "the tromp of hobnailed boots" and knocks on his neighbors' doors, followed by "the screams and protests of the women" as his neighbors were dragged off by storm troopers to concentration camps. "They came to every door in our apartment house but mine" he recounted, adding "maybe they forgot me". It took more than a year before the Liebmans could secure the papers necessary to flee Nazi Germany. By the time they did their remarkable luck had been stretched: the ship they finally boarded for America arrived in New York on the last day of August 1939-one day before war broke out in Europe.

It was not easy for families to flee Nazi Germany. Individuals or couples without children could be more flexible in exploring or selecting possible options and had fewer bureaucratic hurdles to jump than did families trying to arrange complete sets of forms, certificates, tax receipts, affidavits, visas and -finally-tickets for passage. Also, flight for one cost much less than flight in quantity. At the same time, mates or children might provide not only comfort but motivation to endure the tribulation of arranging one's own survival.

The impetus to emigrate from the Third Reich arose within the first days of the ascendance of the Nazis in March 1933. Over time and with the expansion as of 1938 of anti-Jewish decrees aimed at both expelling the Jews from Greater Germany and milking them of most of their wealth in the process,<96> the push to leave became only that much more urgent. A majority of the threatened rationalized, though, that-being a "civilized" land-Germany was their rightful home and they could count on a liveable future there. For such people only after the devastating Kristallnachtpogrom of 9-10 November 1938 would it become unmistakably clear that their hopes for a return to saner days were illusionary and that the need to leave was real.

Louis and Grete Rosenzweig of Kassel were two of the many German Jews caught unawares by the political landscape's rapid deterioration under Adolf Hitler as "changes which nobody ever had anticipated came about".<97> The Rosenzweigs had always considered themselves "German citizens in the first place, Jews by religion" and had "just as many close non-Jewish friends [as] Jewish ones".<98> Initially the shift of political winds in Germany was barely perceptible and "only felt as a bad undercurrent creating uneasiness among the Jews and forcing Gentiles into organizations and actions". Eventually, however, the Nazis' presence became pervasive. The first "upsetting sight" Grete Rosenzweig caught of the frightful new social order came when she met daughter Irmgard's teacher in full Nazi uniform-and that at a time "when not all people were yet forced into uniform and organizations". Then, as it became increasingly "difficult for a Jewish boy to attend school and not be able to associate with his classmates", the Rosenzweigs decided to send their older child, Ernst, to a Swiss boarding school; he later went to England to attend a Jewish agricultural school for boys "who were going to emigrate", but then was interned as an "enemy alien". Meanwhile, Louis Rosenzweig's firm dismissed him due to "race"-an act which Grete Rosenzweig saw as ironic, given that a Jew had founded it. Her husband subsequently opened his own tax-and-auditing consulting office. This whole time life for German Jews

got harder and tenser by the day. Jews in small country communities felt the pressure of the Hitler system sooner and harder [and for them] it began very early to be unbearable... Jews looked for chances to leave Germany where they were not wanted and finally were in danger. [As the] emigrating people needed help and advice.

Thus Louis Rosenzweig's new business flourished. He became knowledgeable with the many new anti-Semitic regulations and earned the title "currency lawyer" under the new legal system. His, however, "was a dangerous job", as every morning he had to report to the Gestapo and "he never knew if he would be able to come home again or would be sent to prison". For that reason, his suitcase was "always packed". Grete Rosenzweig appreciated her husband's tenuous status because of his being in a "leading position among the Jews": as chairman of the Jewish orphanage and president of the congregation he was in "a very exposed situation".

The first drastic development to occur in Kassel involved the Jewish orphanage. On 6 November 1938 Nazi supporters attacked the building and broke the windows; by the time they had their fill of destruction "much damage was done". Soon after the orphanage's destruction, the Rosenzweigs received a phone call in the night with the message: "The temple is burning!" Leaving their adolescent daughter in the charge of her grandmother, Louis and Grete Rosenzweig rushed to the city center, where they found "an overwhelming sight: the synagogue in flame, a huge fire outside on mainstreet, all the books from the temple...carried outside and thrown into the flames and burnt up". Grete Rosenzweig said that they were "fortunate that the Nazis did not pay any attention to us and that we got home safely". The next time, however, the Rosenzweigs did not escape Nazi thuggery unscathed.

As Grete Rosenzweig walked home at dusk in the late afternoon of 9 November,<99> she saw obscure shadows jump into the bushes near her house as she approached. The incident gave her such an "eerie feeling" that she went inside and watched "all evening from a dark window, but seemingly all had calmed down". The family retired to bed, but

it was not long that we heard a terrible pounding on the entrance door-crash-it gave way and a horde of Nazis came tramping up the stairs and rang our door bell. It was the night which no German Jew will forget.

The intruders came to haul the family to the police station-including Grete Rosenzweig's elderly mother.<100> Then, when the Nazis demanded the house keys from Grete, the scene turned ugly: she answered "How did you get in?" and for her insubordination they began "beating down" on her. Then- with Louis Rosenzweig sans dentures and Grandmother's silk slip draped over Irmgard's arm-the Rosenzweigs were whisked away in a truck to the Kassel police headquarters, where "after waiting and having been questioned" the men were kept, while the women and children dismissed.

By the time Louis Rosenzweig's office was to open the next morning "women and more women came who wanted help". Grete discovered that "ALL the Jewish men had been taken away including the rabbi". Stating that she could "tell for hours about all the happenings during these days of horror", she mentioned as representative that in the Rosenzweig home "most of the windows, all the mirrors and lamps were broken, the floor soiled, furniture ruined [and] the little bird which we loved, was gone".

On that first night of what would be a two-day nationwide pogrom, Grete Rosenzweig learned that her husband had landed in army barracks, where she managed to have his dentures delivered. As they waited for his return she and daughter Irmgard "stayed together day and night", only to find that the tormented Jewish men had been sent to concentration camps. Unexpectedly, however, Grete found a way to ensure her husband's return. A Catholic doctor used his influence to convince the Nazis that "deportation would be fatal" due to Louis Rosenzweig's bad health; upon his release, he returned to Kassel and remained bedfast for a few weeks. Grete Rosenzweig later lamented that although they did not own their home, they had to restore it at their expense and "After all the repairs were done we were forced to move". She noted: "from then on we had to move and move".

After the minutely planned and cynically orchestrated "Night of Broken Glass" pogrom, the only course of action for the Rosenzweigs consisted of leaving Germany as fast as haste flung at rigorous bureaucracy would allow. Like them, the Seligmann family of Heidelberg also concluded that the only option left for them was to abandon the entire locus of their lives and begin again abroad. This decision was not easy, for Sigmund and Friedel Seligmann were both about 50 years old and had two children. Thus they found the process of arranging leaving Nazi Germany discouraging and exhausting-a rigorous emotional and financial gauntlet. Although they had explored emigration possibilities and had resigned themselves to remaining in the Third Reich, for the Seligmanns "with the events of November, the slow and merciless death of existence" as they had known it came to "a sudden and final end".<101>

As early as 1937 Sigmund Seligmann realized that the fact that his wife Friedel was of "Aryan" descent and both children had been raised Christian didn't change a situation which had become critical. On top of that, the children had reached the age where they had to suffer from "the regression of the system in and outside of school". By heritage a Jew and by profession a seller of chemical fertilizers as well as being a self-employed horticultural consultant, with the implementation of a general anti-Jewish boycott Sigmund Seligmann lost more and more customers, to the point that he had to declare 1937 a Verlustjahr-a "year of losses". As his business had been a thriving one, this strangulation of the family's livelihood had devastating effects.

As of spring 1938, then, the Seligmanns sought to relocate. "All attempts to enter another European country failed"-Sigmund Seligmann's occupation being "neither important nor my wealth great enough to open a door somewhere"; thus nothing else remained but to think about moving overseas. Sigmund Seligmann's sister had migrated to Australia, so for a while they considered joining her-until they received the reply that they were no longer young enough and "didn't have enough children!" Next, they turned their attention to America, where the husband of Friedel Seligmann's cousin signed a crucial affidavit of support. Unfortunately it was non-transferable, which meant that Sigmund Seligmann would have had to leave his family behind.

Separating the family remained unacceptable-until the pogrom of November 1938. The Seligmanns were not spared a house search and "the destruction and confiscation of the apartment by the SS", nor Sigmund Seligmann's deportation to Dachau, where he languished for five weeks. He later avoided disclosing the details of his stay there, other than saying: "the name 'Dachau' alone suffices to evoke the treatment-or better, the mistreatment-to which I along with the other internees were exposed". At least, Friedel Seligmann managed to arrange his release. What should have been a joyous return home, however, was dampened by the realization that the family of a former Dachau inmate could not remain in the housing estate of the Associated Union of Employees, where the Selgimanns once had bought the right to live with the help of matching public-aid monies.<102> Although they did so voluntarily, the Seligmanns forfeited their investment, left their single-family home and moved to a crowded shared flat.

After Sigmun Seligmann's return in December 1938 only the liquidation of his firm remained-which impoverished the company's cash-strapped accounts.<103> He sold the stock at clearance prices to a concern in Worms which absorbed his customers without compensation. Friedel Seligmann had sold the company car at a bearable loss during his incarceration; these additional forfeitures, however, along with other "expenses and obligations"-such as circa 2,000 Marks in the form of a Judenabgabe (Jew tax)-exhausted the firm's finances.<104>

After realizing the Nazis' intentions, Sigmund Seligmann understood that he had to undertake all possible actions until he could escape impending disaster. Thus, he pressed on with efforts to flee Germany until, finally, way opened. A local pastor, in conjunction with a visiting American Quaker<105>-the husband of a woman who later would serve as director of Scattergood Hostel- came to his aid. They granted Seligmann a decisive favor: they vouched for his character-that he was a worthy and fully acceptable candidate for life in America. Only then did the American consulate in Stuttgart issue Sigmund Seligmann a visa. It provided entry, however, for him only.<106>

It was a heavy shock to come home with the decision that I provisionally had to emigrate alone [and] the family had to stay [behind] despite the state of war. Through this separation, its accompanying uncertainty over fate and complications connected with my first [days] in the USA, the persecutions had an effect across time and space.<107>

As Sigmund Seligmann soon learned, with the granting of a visa his work had just begun. The necessary last transactions involved tremendous expenditures, such as requisite exit taxes to be paid at the Landesfinanzamt in order to receive permission to take property with him. In addition he had to post bonds assuring his solvency for possible debts at Heidelberg's Finanzamt -where officials found "reason" for again levying a tax of circa 2,000 Marks. Following the payment of all compulsory taxes and fees, he still had to trek to Karlsruhe, Stuttgart and Berlin in order to retrieve corresponding documents from the Imperial Union of Jews or similar social-service offices-as well as tickets for passage aboard a Dutch steamer. During a visit to the Imperial Insurance Institute of Employees, Seligmann discovered that his claims for compensation for previously made, self-employment insurance payments had been nullified-as were those regarding life insurance policies for him, his wife and their family. So arbitrary and exorbitant were the costs involved with leaving Germany that by the time he actually reached Rotterdam in February 1940 for the long-awaited voyage, Seligmann had the equivalent of 10 Marks.

Sigmund Seligmann safely reached America, but what of the rest of his family?<108> His wife and children remained behind, suffering inadequate living arrangements and the barest of budgets, given that their husband and father had been unable to leave much money with them. They survived until their own trip across the Atlantic through the support of relatives, friends and the pastor of a local Heidelberg church. Away from harm in the U.S., Sigmund Seligmann worked to secure his family's passage as soon as possible. Given the handicap of his age and rather specialized training, he thought himself lucky to locate work first on a farm in Maryland and later at a nursery in Iowa where he worked for meager pay. At that rate, it took time for him to save enough to pay the $950 tickets necessary to-in effect-ransom his family.

The Seligmanns-who "Americanized" the name to "Seaman"-found direct and relatively brief passages to the New World. Other future Scattergood guests, in contrast, did not. The Weilers, for example, had to travel a total of 27,000 kilometers in order to end up on the Iowa prairies. As one reporter put it: "The man went out the front door, his wife and little daughter departed by the back way and they were reunited on the other side of the world".<109>

Like most German Jews, under Nazi rule Gus Weiler of Neustadt could not continue his profession-by-training, so the former butcher took to trading livestock-a livelihood which the regime eventually also forbade him. At that point he and his wife Rosl decided they had no future in the "New Germany". They were able to secure a visa, but, as with the Seligmanns, only for the head of the family. In their case, too, the man of the family fled solo-on 1 May 1940, aboard an Italian passenger ship bound for the United States. Upon landing in New York Gus Weiler stayed with his fellow-refugee brother before heading to Iowa to wait at Scattergood until his wife and their daughter could join him-a reunion he was not sure ever would occur.

In the meantime, before Gus Weiler's family could follow, the war in Europe intensified, so Rosl Weiler decided to undertake an alternative route. First, the two went to the East Prussian city of Königsberg and boarded a train for Lithuania, which had not yet fallen prey to Hitler's push for Lebensraum. On the border, however, Nazi officials forced her to forfeit her money. Initially, the Russians refused the pair admittance when a soldier discovered that the routes outlined in their passports did not jibe with that of their tickets. After a night in a bare room without food or water, however, the next morning the two were granted permission to proceed to Moscow. There, upon a guarantee by Quakers that the German government would be repaid, the Moscow consulate of the German foreign office provided them with money-"after three days of red tape had delayed the journey". For eight days and nights Weiler and her daughter rode a trans-Siberian train "bearing many refugees" and in which "everyone was sick". There they changed trains and proceeded to Pusan in occupied Korea and secured a two-day passage to Japan. They then continued on to Seattle-a trip which required 12 more days. From the Pacific Northwest the duo rode a bus literally across more than half of North America in order to rejoin Gus Weiler-some four months after the family first had separated.

Despite the tribulations they encountered in the process, Jews with the means and luck to do so left Nazi-occupied Germany. Already before World War II began, Germany and annexed Austria lost half of their pre-war Jewish populations, either through emigration or murder.<110> Once the Wehrmacht rolled into Poland,<111> Nazi persecution of the Jews took on a new, more active incarnation in the form of mass executions and deportations. Also, from April through June 1940 whole Jewish populations in Denmark, Norway, the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg and France fell prey to Nazi designs. As the war then moved eastward, Jews in the Soviet Union, the Baltics, Hungary and the Balkans also were subjected to persecution and annihilation. Those with enough money and clarity of what fates might befall them sought to escape the Nazi menace. The majority of European Jews, however, perished.

While during the first wave of emigration in 1933 300 to 400 German Jews entered Britain each month, the volume declined to about 100 per month in 1934. After the declaration of the sweeping Nuremberg Laws in September 1935, the level of Jewish emigration rose again from 21,000 in 1935 to 25,000 in 1936. At the same time, refugees' destinations other than Britain began closing their doors. Out of the 106,000 German Jews who emigrated between 1933 and 1936, Palestine absorbed 23,963-until, that is, a serious Arab rebellion against the British mandatory government in Palestine in 1936 prompted London to severely restrict Jewish immigration. From 1937 to 1939 the number of Jews entering Palestine declined to 11,864, out of a total German Jewish emigration of 141,000. As barriers to immigration in Palestine and other countries went up, Britain felt increased pressure to take action.<112> Eventually, so did the United States. But it was too late: by the war's end the Nazis succeeded in annihilating two-thirds of Europe's pre-war Jewish population.<113> The Nazis' had been one of most thorough, efficient murder machines in world history. Wherever they went in the West, the Germans found collaborators or just plain opportunists willing to betray or herd up Jews living in newly conquered states. In the East, Nazi occupying forces were preceded by merciless Einsatzgruppen, corps whose job it was to "liquidate" as many Jews in occupied territories as possible. This they did with amazing speed, accuracy and heartlessness. For them, any targeted individuals in Nazi-occupied zones were fair game. Any such individuals who could, fled.<114>

Refugees from Nazi-Occupation

Although many were, not all individuals fleeing Nazi occupation were Jews. Some were ordinary civilians hoping to escape being caught in crossfire. While the majority of Scattergood's guests fled Nazi-held lands before warfare could disturb their lives even more than creeping social stigmatization and later persecution already had, half a dozen actually witnessed armed conflict. One of that number was Magdalene Salmon of Warsaw, who remained in her hometown on the Vistula even while the Wehrmacht pounded the Polish capital to dusty rubble during the Poles' valorous but vain attempt to stave off the on-coming Germans. A social worker in the municipal family-services office, Salmon used her post to keep abreast of developments-as far as the city government had an inkling of what was happening, given that the situation changed so quickly, without warning and in a vacuum created by a crippling lack of functioning infrastructure. Still, she saw the basic sequence of events and daily-life conditions following the Nazi invasion on 1 September 1939.

Already on 11 September, as German troops approached Warsaw, the defeated Polish military command decided to capitulate, then withdrew in the direction of Lublin. Salmon later recalled: "Contrary to this decision the civil government of Warsaw decided to defend the town and created the Committee of Warsaw Defense".<115> Lingering soldiers and "workers' battalions formed by civilians" were to protect the besieged city-a noble if quixotic assignment. Salmon stayed, as the decision to defend Warsaw supposedly "expressed the will of the population". The besieged Poles did not know that on 17 September the Polish government had left Poland, that the Russian army had occupied the east part of Polish territory and that "all Poland was a victim of aggression". On the contrary, the people of Warsaw hoped that British or French armies would attempt to invade Germany. In the month of September, then, "nobody would say that the bombardment would be too strong to stand, but despair after the surrender was universal".

It was winter when Salmon took her baby, left her work and made her way to Russia, which she crossed on the Trans-Siberian Railroad enroute to America. In the weeks before she left Poland, however, she watched as the invading Germans took over the city-and with them

came hunger and misery. In Warsaw there was no coal; all the windows had broken panes. In the night began to assemble outside my office the people asking for help. We gave them the money for one kilo of bread a month. To receive this amount of bread hundreds of people would stand for hours in the cold and rain. And this-to see the people starve-was the worst of all.

Magdalene Salmon was not the only Polish Scattergood Hostel guest to see firsthand the ravages of war. Unlike Magdalene, however, Stanislav Braun was not living in his native Warsaw at the time of the German invasion and subsequent destruction of the Polish capital, as he had been living in Paris since his graduation from secondary school. Once Poland had been attacked, however, he enlisted in a Polish division of the French army and moved to the French front, on the western edge of the Nazis' intimidating Reich; he and his fellow Polish soldiers were in military service "to kill Germans, to avenge the honor of Poland".<116> The young father, however, was to be disappointed. When the Germans entered Belgium in a spearheaded action centered at that gap in the Maginot Line, Braun helped the French try to stem the attacks with mule-drawn equipment-inadequate to hit the low-flying German planes. The weak French front soon collapsed and Braun fled to Paris. Learning that his wife and their six-year-old son had preceded him to the South of France, he pushed his way across the chaotic French countryside until he reached them there. Officially, German demands issued at the time of the Nazi-dictated armistice stipulated that all foreigners who had fought with the French were to be placed in concentration camps. The clever Pole, however, found a friend-an officer in the French army-who drafted a fictitious certificate claiming that Braun was "in the process of being demobilized". As foreign-born soldiers could not be interned until they had been demobilized, Braun thus possessed technical immunity. Amazingly, the puzzled French officials who stopped Braun for questioning honored the order, allowing the trained economist-statistician to reach the still-unoccupied South, where his family secured American visas.

Chapter 2 Reception in Residential Refugee Programs

General Comments

After the prolonged turmoil they had endured while trying to flee Nazi-occupied territories, once refugees reached what appeared to be a safe haven, their journies did not end-and for some, really only then began. Those still in Europe had to find further passage, either because they were unwelcome as long-term resident foreigners or because they sensed that the Nazi menace would not be satiated with those lands already under Berlin's control. Some unwittingly landed in detention camps, with little power to secure their own release; those who succeeded in leaving the camps still had myriad hurdles to overcome in order to please bureaucrats who might-or then again not-grant a reprieve from danger. Those who reached islands of refuge safe from Nazi invasion-for example, Cuba or the United States-still had to locate shelter and means of support, or, ideally, the agencies willing and able to facilitate locating both. Only after meeting their basic needs could refugees consider the process of integrating into an adopted culture. The most fortunate of them did so with the help of one of a few existent residential refugee centers.

To discern to what degree Scattergood Hostel's overall experience was representative or exceptional in comparison to that of other voluntary refugee centers then operative, one must examine the basic organization and offerings of comparable residential refugee programs. Who or what organizations ran the programs-and with what motives or goals? What subjects of instruction did they offer-and to what end? What role did freetime activities play in the rehabilitation of the refugees? Based upon what model did the centers function: "democracy", "dictatorship" or a mixture of the two? How did respective forms of "government" prepare refugees for functioning in non-dictatorial societies? In general, did the various programs meet "success" or "failure" in reaching their goals in terms of refugee rehabilitation and reorientation? What sort of basis for later refugee integration or assimilation did the programs provide?

To qualify for comparison, programs had to have been residential, voluntary and comprehensive; other refugee centers existed besides those presented here but either kept those residing there by force-as in the British "enemy alien" internment camps or the French detention camps in operation both before and following German occupation-or only offered basic services, thereby being only part of coincidental processes of refugee integration or assimilation. Such centers cannot be compared to the deliberate, far-reaching program offered at Scattergood Hostel and cannot be compared in terms of how they facilitated or hindered refugees integration or assimilation. What follows are a sampling of thirteen contemporary voluntary residential refugee centers.

References to Specific Examples

The fates of refugees from Nazi-occupied Europe varied tremendously. The examples offered here suggest important differences as well as similarities between thirteen residential refugee programs. While they indicate what sort of reception refugees from Nazi-occupied territories met, they are limited to the case studies for which enough material could be located to merit using them and are listed according to the approxiamate chronology of their existence.

Agricultural Projects

As of November 1929 the western world found itself in an economic sink hole spurred by the collapse of Wall Street markets. As trade, then industry shrunk to shadows of their pre-Crash selves, a "back to the land" movement attracted interest in several industrialized countries. Mainly, its adherents saw industrial civilization as precarious in its abilities to provide long-term for humans' basic needs and well-being. The radical philosophies of Scott and Helen Nearing in America's urban Northeast or John Seymour in England's Midlands struck resonant chords: they preached agrarian living as a means to achieve spiritual purity as well as material self-reliance; the social ecology they peddled blended small-scale socialism with radical provincialism. Theirs' was a blend of old-fashioned agrarian common sense wedded with avant garde revisionist philosophy born of over a century of urban-based industrialism. For them agriculture was a return to cultural roots as well as a march forward.

As a decentralized, non-secular school of thought, the "back to the land" ethic lent itself to Zionist' aims of exciting European Jews to emigrate to what was then British-ruled Palestine. Zionists saw agrarian-based socialism as the key to establishing sustainable settlements in the inhospitable Middle East and thereby re-establishing a long-vanished "Israel". The human brain as well as brawn needed to sprout kibbutzim on "Israeli" soil would have to be cultivated, as European Jews long had been an urbane, commercial people-not tillers of the land. Thus leading Jewish business and cultural figures underwrote the founding of agricultural schools to prepare Jewish youth and young adults for eventual settlement in Palestine.<117> Meaning "pioneer" in Hebrew, Halutz comprised the largest movement sponsoring such schools. A cross between a Zionist hotbed and a refugee evacuation agency, it organized hundreds of programs and touched the lives of almost ten thousand young Jews.<118>

In contrast, Quaker-sponsored agricultural projects-while obviously confident that agrarianism could solve problems or offer possibilities which urban culture could not-lacked the religious underpinnings of Zionist hopes behind "making the desert bloom" as a vehicle for rebuilding Israel. Still, that Quaker philantrophists and relief agents alike turned to rural refugee projects suggests that they trusted the land's ability to absorb thousands of "unwanted" persons from Nazi-held territories. Remarkably, they and the Zionists did so virtually from the start of Nazi rule.

Halutz Agricultural Schools

Already before 1933, Halutz existed with the hope of resurrecting the Israel of the Jews' ancient ancestors. At that time the movement included a few hundred individuals and worked in tandem with similar organizations in Eastern Europe-thereby acquiring experience with retraining those who came from various professions for physical work. With the rise of Nazism, Halutz appealed to thousands and its fortunes soared even while that of Jews in Germany generally suffered. At that point, the Reichsvertretung<119>-which organized in September 1933 to represent German Jews in the face of growing attack from the recently empowered Nazi regime-cooperated with British and American Jewish organizations to accelerate the transformation of Jewish young people from urban Europeans into Middle Eastern agrarians. This tri-national Jewish front recognized at the beginning of Nazi rule the importance of preparing younger generations for physical work in agriculture and other productive occupations as a condition of large-scale Jewish emigration from Germany. It intended to convince

a large part of an urban and middle-class population to change their outlook in life, to re-educate them for occupations they had never known, to organize the centres and institutions for the training of sixty thousand young men and women.<120>

In the first few months of 1933 a "large number" of training institutes, agricultural centers, farms and workshops were hurriedly established, so that by the year's end over six thousand individuals were receiving initial training or were being retrained as agricultural workers or artisans. Despite such effective organization prowess, Halutz stumbled upon difficulty coming from the Nazi government. In fact, numerous administrative hurdles and Gestapo Aktionen frequently interferred with the training programs undertaken in Halutz schools.<121> After commiting large investments for equipment and in physical plants to be used as training sites-for example-permits suddenly were withdrawn, often without explanation. The Gestapo's surveillance of Halutz activities was carried out "maliciously", with the intent to "disorganize" efforts to prepare Jewish youth

for a new life in other countries... The difficulties in establishing sufficient training places in Germany, the continual obstacles created by the German authorities, and the necessity of saving the young who were in danger of imprisonment and concentration camps, compelled the extension of the activities into neighbouring countries.<122>

At the same time, Halutz had to take "great care" in view of the danger of returning to Germany any who were not fit for physical work. Only those who already had been trained for a certain time in Germany and could prove the necessary qualifications returned.

To realize its goals, Halutz submitted proposals to the Reichsvertretung regarding the organization and administration of its programs. The Central Jewish Organization, the American Joint Distribution Committee and the Central British Fund all agreed to contribute monies which could not be collected locally and guaranteed that pupils would not become public charges. The Jewish Agency for Palestine, in turn, promised to provide immigration certificates for those completing training. Once the necessary bureaucratic arrangements were in place, Halutz established centers for German Jewish youth in Belgium, Czechoslovakia, Denmark, France, Italy, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Latvia, Poland, Sweden, the United Kingdom and Yugoslavia. From 1933 to 1939 training did not take place in all countries at the same time and as of 1939, "owing to the increase of political tension in Europe", centers in France, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania and Yugoslavia were discontinued. Despite that, thousands received training. Due to political instability, however, some of the trainees received their preparation in two or even three countries because the supply of immigration visas to Palestine or to other countries was never sufficient to provide for all who had completed their training. Trainees then had to transfer to a new country where they could continue their training for another eighteen months. It was a difficult, cumbersome undertaking, but those who withstood it left "as highly skilled workers in their own fields".<123>

Hitler's annexation of Austria on 13 March 1938 necessitated expanding Halutz' program to include young Jews from Germany's ill-fated neighbor. Together with the Germans enrolled, between 1933 and 1939, 9,213 individuals -roughly two-thirds males and one-third females-received training outside the Third Reich.<124> Of 9,213 young Jews who trained abroad before September 1939, 5,414 completed their course and emigrated. Of them, 4,600 joined agri-cultural settlements in Israel; 814 emigrated to the USA or other countries overseas. Of the rest 2,768 found haven in England and Sweden, but 1,031 were trapped by the German occupation of Holland, Belgium and Poland: "Some were saved by wandering eastwards in the flight from the advancing German armies, but hundreds perished in their attempts to reach safety for the second time". Those remaining in England and Sweden continued agricultural work during the war years. At the war's end most left for their final destination.<125>

Although Halutz' aim was to train young adults between the ages of 18 and 25, the increasing severity of Nazi anti-Semitic persecution led it to accept juveniles under age 18 as well. Because Latin American and British Common-wealth countries gave preference to agricultural workers, about 90 percent of the trainees received instruction in agriculture or-for women-"domestic science"; the other ten percent qualified as artisans. According to one account, the "overwhelming number" placed in agriculture was due also to financial considerations, as training in agriculture proved to be cheaper and required a shorter period than training for any other occupation suitable for the countries of immigration.<126> Establishing large new agricultural training centers called for "inventiveness and flexibility". Those responsible for the aggregate project had to adapt their program to each country separately because conditions of training, labor laws, guarantors' responsibilities and the willingness of the Jewish communities to participate in the scheme varied. In some countries paid employment with private farmers was permitted, while in others it was relatively easy to rent farms or to establish special institutions of their own.

Of over nine thousand young people trained, 4,145 worked as apprentices with private farmers. Most of the rest served as resident interns at various training centers. What did those training centers look like? Ranging in sizes which accommodated a dozen to several hundred trainees at a time, they included rented, purchased and "specially adapted" sites. The Stichting Joodische Arbeid of Amsterdam-for example-sponsored one such site on the Zuider Zee. It was there

on the virgin soil which the Dutch reclaimed from the sea, and where Dutch farmers had refused to settle, [that] Jewish boys and girls from Germany, driven from their homeland, were the first to cultivate the new stretch of land, and proved that it could be done with outstanding success.<127>

By 1938 the Halutz-sponored Werkdorp was a "happy" community of 400 young people who had created a model agricultural settlement, and themselves had to undergo "physical and mental changes, just as the land they worked was changed from a saline wilderness to fertile fields and gardens".

A second example of a Halutz center could be found on the opposite side of Europe on a barren hill in Yugoslavia. Puszta Golonice lay four hours from the nearest railway station; a group of Halutzim who finished their training on the farm dubbed it Kibbutz Bamidbar-"in the desert". Despite its marked remoteness, 120 young men and women moved into the site's derelict house and endured "primitive" living conditions:

work in the heat of the summer and in the cold, long months of winter [which was] unbelievably hard. It speaks for the courage and perseverance of the children from the middle-class Jewish families who lived there, nearly isolated from the outside world, that none left the farm before completing the training.<128>

"Almost all" of those who passed through Puszta Golonice went to Palestine to join one of the growing number of collective settlements.

In all, Halutz-sponsored agricultural training centers provided a means of escape from Nazi persecution, while concurrently preparing young refugees to integrate at least professionally into the countries where they later would find safe haven. Jews, however, weren't the only religious body to turn to the land as a place of refuge.

Land Settlement, Perpignan, Eastern Pyrenees, France

In response to the increasingly clear threat the newly installed Nazi governing apparatus posed to individuals not in agreement with it, in summer 1933 the Germany Emergency Committee [GEC] of London Yearly Meetings' Friends Service Council (a relief and reform organization) moved to create a safe haven for the first victims of the Nationalsozialist regime. Two members of GEC donated most of the funds necessary to realize German and French Friends' plans to resettle German refugees in the Eastern Pyrenees.<129> One of the donors went in September of that year to the South of France to investigate the possibilities available. Near Perpignan she discovered a small derelict farm, unoccupied and available at low rent; a resettlement project was seeded.

Soon after Hitler's Machtergreifung a number of non-Quaker Germans had contacted Friends at the Quaker Centre in Frankfurt-am-Main. After the procurement of property at Perpigan some of those individuals were contacted and in November six Germans-a teacher and his wife, their small daughter and three young men-moved to Perpigan. The teacher-whose pacifism had cost him his job-leased the land on the group's behalf and received grants for rent, for initial stock or equipment and for maintenance till harvest. As the teacher had "a keen sense of service and hoped to build a community which would play an active part in the social life of the district", the initial settlers agreed to run their community as a cooperative and soon won the friendship of their neighbors. The village curé lent them furnished accommodation while they put the farmhouse in order and helped them in other ways; at Christmas they joined in local festivities, singing French or German songs with locals.<130>

By the end of that first year the farmhouse became "passably habitable" and a group of eight people moved in. As the farm included enough pasture for some 50 goats and a few cows, and as a good market existed for milk, butter or cheese, the group decided to run a dairy. In also it grew fruits and vegetables for the household. Under the schoolteacher's leadership, the settlement's residents set to work "with great energy and determination" clearing scrub and a neighbor plowed the fields in return for use of fodderland. The settlers sowed seeds and planted fruit trees and bought initial livestock, including a mule for transport. Within months the farm had improved "beyond all knowledge"; the refugees soon realized that, after further improvement, it might be difficult to renew the lease and they might find themselves homeless, so in September 1934 the main donor-a British female doctor-purchased the farm, in effect as a trust.

The settlement, however, was not without its troubles. The three young men soon left, as "they were not fitted for the life there". The activist agency L'Entr'Aide chose others to fill their places, but had difficulty in obtaining work permits for them and arbitrary expulsions from France being carried out by French authorities at that time caused further loss of workers. By February 1935 the schoolteacher was the only man on the farm; during that month an epidemic among the goats killed all the kids. In March another refugee arrived and later that year two parties of English schoolboys came to work briefly-in the summer months, though, the farm really needed four men to get through all the work. Despite personnel problems, in autumn 1935 the farm was able to feed the four people living there-until, that is, during the winter the wholesale price of milk fell sharply and "further subsidization" was necessary. The following autumn doubt arose whether the settlement could be self-supporting, so the core group made a "radical change", converted the mixed farm into a fruit farm occupied by the schoolteachers' family and planted 500 new fruit trees. Situated amidst "lovely country", they also made a modest income by accommodating visitors and providing camping sites; that enterprise was developed along with the fruit-growing: "Soon the prospects began to look brighter".<131>

Until, that is, war erupted. At that point the family undertook housing and teaching refugee children sent to them by French and American Quakers, a task in which they were "well qualified and...very successful".<132> While the settlement succeeded in cultivating amiable relations with its neighbors, the degree to which the refugees who lived there were able to integrate into the local mileau, however, depended on external forces. After war broke out in Europe, agriculturally based refugee projects in general assumed new, complicated characteristics.

Holwell Hyde

Disproportionately involved in the German refugee crisis, British Quakers sought to relieve as well as rehabilitate those coming to them for assistance. Of primary need was shelter-before any effort could be made of helping exiles from the Continent plant new lives on British soil. Toward that end Friends founded numerous small refugee centers. Most were temporary and limited in scope; the three substantial ones included here represent British Friends' efforts at running residential refugee programs. The first, Holwell Hyde near Hatfield, consisted of an 11-acre farm with a house, a cottage and a separate recreation facility operated by the Friends Committee for Refugees and Aliens [FCRA-formerly known as the German Emergency Committee]. Its primary goal was to provide individuals fleeing broken lives on the Contiment with the means of supporting themselves in Britain. Given language as well as professional barriers to establishing careers in wartime Britain, Friends pinned their hopes as well as the refugees' futures on agricultural employment.

Before war broke out, Franciscans had used the site to house vagrants, who had worked on the farm. Under war-time conditions, however, "these people had ceased to exist as a class".<133> In March 1940 FCRA assumed control of the site's implements, fodder and a modest assembly of livestock. It also kept the previous wardens to run the place as an agricultural training center for about 20 persons. Holwell Hyde lent itself to such a use, as it already was under cultivation and in neighboring towns existed a "good market" for fresh vegetables and flowers. Thus, under the eye of three "older and experienced" refugees, Friends offered trainees training in agriculture, horticulture, stock- and poultry-keeping, and periodically organized lectures on those subjects. The combined influences of safe haven and wholesome work, sound training and agreeable camaraderie made an immediate difference and it soon became noticeable that "without exception" the trainees "greatly improved in health and physique during their stay... All [were] keen on learning English" and several joined English or French classes. Four conversation and reading groups were held each week by a volunteer who also gave separate lessons to three "backward members" of the community. The conversations often took the form of a discussion "on some subject of interest".

Just three months after the hostel's opening many of the men there were interned due to fear of "enemy aliens", but the project was saved by the "excellent work" of the wardens, one of the leading refugees and "Brother Andrew"-the tractor. Alledgedly the center became "a haven", as the police and the War Agricultural Committee

simply wouldn't let it be closed [as the specified refugee] was, among other things, a skilled tractor driver [so] he and his wife were spared from internment, and under the wardens he took charge of the agricultural training. 'Brother Andrew'...not only made it possible for the refugees to receive mechanical training,

but enabled "everything to be very well advanced" when authorities inspected the center during the "critical" months of May and June 1940.

Staff compensated for the depleted number of residents by introducing young refugees who escaped internment. Despite the lack of experienced help a "high standard" was apparently maintained, for a year later a visitor noted that both the chairman of the War Agricultural Committee and a Ministry of Agriculture inspector recently visited the farm and "congratulated the Management on the forward condition of their work and the quality of their stored crops. The Government is purchasing the residue of the potato crop... [Generally] the refugees were happy and were benefiting from the training".

Despite the refugees' positive reception of the program at Holwell Hyde, by 1941 it had only about ten trainees and in early 1942 it closed as a program. Most of its residents were able to find positions in agriculture. It had met the needs of adult refugees-but what of those of children who also had fled Nazi terror? Altogether different institutions offered them refuge in a world grown dangerous and often unhospitable.

Boarding Schools

Although between 1933 and 1939 about 60,000 Jews entered Great Britain -which some at the time deemed "very generous"-at first it received "only a modest part" of the total number of would-be German refugees from the Third Reich due to restrictions on immigration even to those fleeing persecution: only those who brought "the means of supporting themselves" could enter.<134> From 1933 to 1938 less than ten thousand exiles were admitted. Following the Kristallnacht pogrom, however, the British people were deeply moved, and renewed the tradition of asylum for the persecuted". From November 1938 till the outbreak of the war in September 1939 the total number of refugees which Britain admitted approached 60,000. Of those, more than three-quarters were Jews and ten thousand were children unaccompanied by parents.

Leaders of the Anglo-Jewish community promised the government that they would incur much of the expense of assisting fleeing Continental Jews. The academic-sponsored Assistance Council helped find positions for scholars at British universities and private citizens such as Harold Macmillan or Lord Baldwin provided shelter to numerous refugees at their estates. Quakers in England responded to appeals from German Jews by sending representatives to Germany to organize the removal of children to safety in the U.K., as it would have been too dangerous for British Jews to have gone.The subsequent Movement for the Care of Children from Germany arranged for the rushed emigration of ten thousand children. While teenage children could go abroad unaccompanied, the younger ones were chaperoned on Kindertransporte.<135> Quakers often hosted children when they arrived-and later adopted some of the orphaned ones; children not placed with private families were entrusted to the care of other sponsors, "farmed out" to agricultural schools or housed in boarding schools-including the likes of the New Herrlingen School at Bunce Court or the Cedars at Waddesdon, both located in the south of England.

Bunce Court

Upon finishing a German education, Anna Essinger of Ulm went to America, became a qualified teacher and lectured at Madison's University of Wisconsin, where she also ran a student hostel. After the first world war she returned to Germany with a Quaker-sponsored Kinderspeisung program and opened Sozialen-Frauenschulen-community-focused schools for women- near Stuttgart. In 1911 her sister and her general-practitioner brother-in-law had established a children's hostel in Herrlingen, a Swabian village near Ulm; wishing to found a boarding school for those children, Essinger joined them. With the help of two other sisters, she opened the school in 1926 with 18 pupils. In 1927 an Education Ministry report described her as "extremely competent" and said she taught in a "very skillful, fresh and stimulating way, exploiting the material with a dedicated precision linked with resolute practice".<136> Essinger's progressive school thrived until 1933.

A Jew, Essinger received notice after Hitler's ascendancy to power that her first pupils-who were then the age for it-would not be allowed to sit the Abitur, the German state school-leaving examination. Furthermore, for the Führer's birthday in April 1933 it was announced that the Nazi swastika was to be flown over all schools: Essinger obeyed the order but sent the children on a day-long outing. A nephew later recalled: "A flag flying over an empty building could signify so much, and that is what my aunt intended".<137>

Recognizing that her school had no future in the New Germany, in summer 1933 Essinger-then 54-took 13 of her pupils to England and re-opened the school in Bunce Court, a country estate at Otterden in Kent. Having been denied a chance at the Abitur in their own country, the pupils sat the London Matriculation and nine passed-three with distinction! With help from two sisters, Essinger proceeded to develop a school which closely reflected her dynamic personality. According to one Kent historian, Anna Essinger was

the-then-English idea of a typical German headmistress, short, stout, with very thick spectacles, a brisk and efficient manner, 'homely' [in the British sense of the word] and very kind to the children, but a strict disciplinarian to teaching staff and pupils.<138>

Autumn 1933 found another 65 pupils and their teachers fleeing Nazi Germany via three separate routes so to avoid official notice. Along with these new arrivals came much work. Part of the school's curriculum was practical work and in the following two months pupils had plenty of that, as they had to work in the house and garden.<139> A Committee of Friends organized to assist the school and erected a big wooden dormitory in the grounds for twenty senior boys. Even so, the children suffered from crowded living conditions that first winter. Some contracted diphtheria or scarlet fever; one boy died in November from polio, causing further anxiety in following months whether others might develop it, so Bunce Court was put into isolation for weeks. Provisions were left at the gates and short meetings with parents were restricted to the open air.<140>

Although at first rough, conditions at the school eventually improved and a state of normality took shape. As the situation in Germany deteriorated, the school increasingly became home to Jewish youth sent abroad by worried parents; the children's unsettled lives and Essinger's progressive pedagogy created an atmosphere of community-based scholasticism.<141> Still, even in such a self-contained, thriving environment, events beyond the garden gate impacted everyday life, as the school body included Jewish refugee children first from Germany, then annexed Austria and occupied Czechoslovakia, followed by children from Poland and Hungry. As a group, they lived in "new-found security as 'citizens of the United Europe of the future'". Some were

almost ill with homesickness and the older children anxious for parents, brothers and sisters left in Germany. A Quaker worker told...of parents' agony of mind who could only choose one of several children to go to England for safe education and which to select-the most brilliant, most fit, or one most vulnerable and unlikely to survive?<142>

In Kristallnacht's wake Essinger helped Jewish families leave Nazi Germany. She had two new dormitories built at Bunce Court and even billeted children with local families. Eventually the need became to be so great that she and the staff barely could respond to it, for as conditions worsened in Germany and the number of refugee children swelled, demand on the school's resources grew. The school's council advised against taking children without definite financial arrangements, though the school "always had up to a dozen children" without them. Many children were taken "on good faith", in the hope that parents would pay when they could or themselves escaped. Another problem involved locating British teachers able to deal with emotional needs

of Jewish children taken from parents, homes and native country. At that time... Britain was still a peaceful, secure country and few realised what was really happening in Germany and were thus unable to comprehend why Anna [brought the] children out of Nazi Germany.<143>

Sometimes, though, "problems" at the school consisted not of spacial or health or psychological limitations-but lingual ones. The official language at the school had to be English in deference to the children's futures, but German remained the de facto lingua franca-a state which caused struggles as well as smiles. In an attempt to enforce the use of English, new British teachers were told they must not learn any German for a year-but they usually did, as the unofficial language of the school was still German for a considerable time. One of the teachers, however, devised a way of reminding the children of the rule of only English at meal times by hanging a miniature Union Jack over the dining-room mantel; at the sound of a German word the teacher pressed a button connected to a light bulb, which illuminated the flag and buzzed a bell. Another daily event that also took place at meal times was a brief "touching of hands" around the table. This was intended to unite the whole body of the school for a short time before meals-"a sort of silent, non-religious grace-before-meals". Furthermore, there was no school uniform, as anything which reminded staff or pupils of "uniformed Nazi Germany was anathema".<144>

Indeed, at least for them personally, Nazi Germany was behind the young exiles-necessitating them to adapt to a new country and culture. To that end Essinger emphasized participation in groups with foci beyond the front lawn. The school welcomed guest speakers from the League of Nations Union-for example-and from the Workers' Education Association. From the latter came a local mail carrier one cold, rainy night to "face what seemed an endless sea of children's faces". Describing himself as a "bundle of nerves", he "was nearly overcome with stage fright", but managed to get through his "party piece".<145> On a larger scale, as soon as the school had become firmly established its contacts with the local community increased and "its fame spread further afield". The staff decided in summer 1934 to hold an Open Day in the last week of July. During it the children performed the Aristophanes play "Peace"-with the stately manor house as background-and made all of the costumes and props. Some 250 visitors came to see the school and the play -among them Lord Samuel, who in a address welcomed the children to England. Due to this exposure children were invited to stay with host families for holidays. Open Days were held every year up to and after the war.<146>

The war, however, would disturb more than merely the amicable Open Day. As of September 1939 the owner of the estate fretted how the war might mean the appropriation of Bunce Court and end her income from it, so the Committee of Friends organized for Essinger to purchase the property from her. Then, the following May, with the advance of the Wehrmacht into France all German male staff and pupils over 16 landed in "enemy-alien" internment camps-soon followed by the school's cook and girls over 16.<147> In June 1940 military authorities issued the school three days' notice to leave the premises, as it had been declared a Defence Area: the army had requisitioned Bunce Court. After intense pleas the government reconsidered-granting a week's notice to move an entire school! Not surprisingly, a suitable replacement could not be found, so the school body split-with the smaller part joining another school and the larger part moving to empty Trench Hall in Shropshire, where the school stayed until the war's end. After "much effort" the school re-opened at Bunce Court in June 1946. Immediately after the war it accepted a number of children and young people who had been prisoners in Nazi concentration camps or had similar wartime backgrounds. This, among the

underlying and unavoidable fact that eventually there would be no more Continental children coming from Europe... Possibly it was at this stage that Anna Essinger felt the original purpose of the school in England was no longer relevant; another may have been that [at almost 70] she was now elderly and considered her work done.<148>

Bunce Court school closed in 1948-having served some 900 pupils. Indeed a unique place, it belonged to a specific time. It's rich legacy, however, survived in the form of Continental children assimilated into "British" adults who made important contributions to their adopted homeland. Not only Bunch Courtians, however, went on to lead lives marked by acheivement.

the Cedars

Markedly different from those of adult refugees, the needs of children fleeing Nazi Germany included the basics-food, clothing and shelter-but also needs more complex and subtle: financial sponsorship in lieu of income, adult guidance and educational instruction, thoughtful guardianship, etc. One response to those needs had its roots in the land not of the Magna Carta, but of the Reformation. The Philantropin began in 1804 in Frankfurt-am-Main when a senior clerk at a Rothschild's bank and three others convinced local Jews to contribute to a school fund for poor Jewish children. The institution's first director served for half a century and during his leadership the school grew to include children from the newer part of the city beyond the limits of the traditional ghetto limits and began offering instruction in German. With the relaxation of restrictive laws forbidding Jews to take up apprentices, classes in "practical subjects" also took their place in the curriculum. The Philantropin became "one of the most modern and progressive schools in the country".<149>

In 1908 the school moved into a spacious building created for it. The new facility had up-to-date workshops, libraries, laboratories, classrooms and play grounds. The school became a Reformrealgymnasium, the motto of which was "Enlightenment and humaneness". The Philantropin was now able to provide an education for children from Kindergarten to university and "many eminent scholars received their education there". So established, the school flourished -until the advent of Nazism, when Jewish children were forbidden to attend "German" schools and life was made "too uncomfortable for them".<150> As parents did not wished their children's education to suffer, many in the area sent them to Frankfurt, where the Flersheim Sichel Stiftung<151> was able to accommodate some of them while they attended the Philantropin. In the New Germany's changed political climate, the school's staff realized that it also must change, as academic qualifications alone would be of little use either in Palestine or in countries where work permits were unobtainable. The school employed two English teachers and offered the Cambridge School Certificate to interested pupils. The staff placed more emphasis on practical courses such as carpentry and increased the number of Hebrew lessons.

All the academic adaptation in the world, however, could not stop the madness spilling onto the streets beyond the schoolyard. In October 1938, for example, all staff and children at the school of Polish origin were deported to Poland-which denied them entry, forcing some of them to remain in border camps.<152> Furthermore, there were "continuous visits" from the SS at six in the morning. Then, on the morning of 10 November, the pupils were sent home because synagogues, Jewish shops and buildings had been set afire. On 12 November 27 of the school's male teachers and some of the boys over 16 were taken to concentration camps. The school re-opened without them but soon thereafter fifteen more teachers left to emigrate. Some of those who had been to concentration camps returned, but of those, two died that term and others

never regained their health [and] the Director returned... with a broken leg... The school continued to function with about two hundred pupils until 1941 when the remaining fifteen members of staff were deported and ultimately perished.<153>

Nazi persecution did not touch only the lives only of Philantropin staff, but also the directors of the new Flersheim Sichel Stiftung home,<154> Hugo and Lilli Steinhardt. Having been dismissed as a Gymnasium department head in Butzbach-Hessen in 1933 and thereafter having given private tutorials to children barred from public schools, Hugo also taught English parttime at the Philantropin until being deported to Buchenwald. At that point his daughters wrote letters to "anyone abroad who might be able to help". One of those letters reached Lord Rothschild in London, who mentioned the boys' plight to James de Rothschild. By happenstance, a large manor house called the Cedars on the Waddesdon Estate, Buckshire, stood empty at that time. The parties involved agreed to transfer the boys and the Steinhardt family to Waddesdon; a Jewish Refugee Appeal representative traveled to Germany to interview the children, their parents and to negotiate with the German authorities:

Thanks to him and the magnanimity of [the Rothschilds] after much filling in of forms, the party was granted leave to emigrate. [Hugo Steinhardt] was freed from Buchenwald and able to accompany them, although he never regained his health.<155>

A party of 21 boys age eight to 13 plus the four Steinhardts left Frankfurt in March 1939. They crossed the English Channel on the same boat as a Kindertransport-children who were coming to England "unaccompanied by their parents...many of them only tiny and very apprehensive". Upon arriving at Waddesdon the Steinhardts and their charges were "warmly welcomed" by some of the residents of the community who had prepared meals and beds for them. Soon after their arrival, the boys began English lessons as preparation for attending the two village schools. While some older boys had remained in Frankfurt awaiting further arrangements, a month later Lilli Steinhardt's sister arrived; she had been in charge of the kitchen in Germany and was to fill the same role at the Cedars. In May the director of the Philantropin sent his son to join the group until he could arrange his own plans for emigration. In June eight more boys arrived.<156> Daily life at the Cedars slowly evolved and took durable form. Although the estate's house was large, it became necessary to find lodgings for some of the boys in the nearby village; supportive neighbors offered accommodation, which was "gratefully accepted". While younger boys adapted quickly to their new schools and surroundings, older ones began work on Waddesdon Estate's farm, dairy and gardens. One boy who with academic aspirations continued his studies at a grammar school in the area.<157> All this time, James de Rothschild paid weekly visits to discuss problems and

interview individual boys who profited from his advice [and] the representative agent on the Estate was also a valuable friend and adviser. [Hugo Steinhardt] welcomed this assistance as his health was rapidly deteriorating. Mr. de Rothschild arranged for him to see his personal consultants, but his condition did not improve.<158>

The well-watched Cedars community was not static. As parents of some of the boys found their way out of Germany, they trickled through Waddesdon -sometimes staying with "kind neighbors". A rabbi who once had taught at the Philantropin also visited and conducted services at the Cedars. As time passed some of the boys left to join family in the U.S. or Palestine. They were lucky, for those remaining in May 1940 were interned for several weeks as "enemy aliens". As the war intensified, younger boys participated in the war effort by collecting salvage in the area or by "digging for victory". As rationing by that point affected everyone, they planted the lawns and flower beds into vegetables and kept chickens in the back garden-looked after by the boys who then felt "some reluctance at eating them". As of 1942 the eighteen-year olds enlisted in the Services. At first they were only accepted by the Jewish Brigade and the Pioneer Corps, but the following year other companies admitted them; they had to change their names to "British-sounding ones".<159> Ironically, some of the boys who earlier had gone to the U.S. later returned as GIs and visited their friends at Waddesdon. The majority of those who emigrated stayed in contact and some had married by that time; they sent Lilli Steinhardt photos of their wives and children. While many of the Cedar's former residents thrived, Hugo Steinhardt's condition grew worse, till he died in October 1942-

a harrowing time for his widow, who now had the task of coping with teenage boys and her family on her own. She was grateful for the support of Mr. de Rothschild in these difficult times. Unfortunately it was a particularly stressful year as one member of the group was seriously ill and hospitalised while another was suffering from a mental breakdown and alternative accommodations had to be found for him.<160>

For most of the other Cedar Boys, however, the future seemed bright.<161> Of the 30 boys who passed through the Cedars' doors, 15 eventually settled in the U.S., six remained in Britain, four went to Israel, one moved to Canada. They became-for example-teachers and professors, engineers and factory owners, a dental mechanic, a silversmith,a landscape gardener, a diplomat and a building contractor. The boys not only integrated within the cultures which they later claimed as their own, but were able to assimilate with them. A chance meeting between two of the Cedars Boys in New York in 1983 led to a reunion in Waddesdon attended by 15 alumni. An International Herald Tribune reporter who was on hand reported that the reunion seemed like most

any gathering of old school chums. There were gasps of recognition and remarks about one man's waistline or another's hairline, ribald laughter at memories of teen-age trysts with village girls in the orchard, stories of adult success or missed opportunities. But never far away were the reminders of childhoods wrenched by war.<162>

Rest Homes

Falkenstein

In November 1933 British Friends opened an Erholungsheim which they deemed a Rest Home-a "friendly little hotel" in Falkenstein-im-Taunus for individuals who "in the passage of the years already had suffered somehow spiritually or physically from the actions of the Nazi Terror".<163> Persons who found respite there came through personal recommendations independent from "political attitudes or worldviews" and included "non-Aryans" as well as Catholics, Lutherans and "people of all the Left Wing Political parties"<164> -among them Ernst Reuter, a future Berlin Regierende Bürgermeister. The "guests"-a term in use not only at Scattergood Hostel six years later, but already at the Rest Home-shared meals, attended silence-based Meetings for Worship and spent much time "recuperating". Per the home's modus operandi, it was paramount that the persecuted gained "distance from their often really horrible past experiences". In one-to-one conversations staff attempted to find "a new possibility of existence-physically and spiritually- instead of resigning to desperation and lack of courage".<165>

Elizabeth Howard of England had visited Germany numerous times since the first world war as a relief worker and after the Nazis took power she served at various times as the Rest Home's House Mother. She described the restorative effect of such quiet time as found there by the guests, who arrived in "a weary, nervous condition", not knowing what they would find among

unknown friends who had invited them out of the blue... but a few days of rest, sleep and freedom from immediate anxiety, and the discovery that there were people who respected them and only wished them well, worked wonders. Colour began to come back to their faces, light into their eyes, and strange miracles of healing happened.<166>

Already within nine months of Hitler's Machtergreifung, the need for refuge and renewal was pronounced. During Howard's visit several guests who had fallen "under Government displeasure" or been in prisons or concentration camps appeared at the Rest Home. As she related, it was only when they were

safely shut into our private sitting-room at night or, better still, were wandering in the woods or climbing those magically lovely hills, that it seemed safe to listen to the stories of their experiences...[Also] there were glorious woods close by, where we could walk for hours and get right away from people. Many a tragic story could be told in safety while tramping through the forest, with the certainty that no unfriendly ears were within reach.<167>

Howard's last point was pertinent, given that the Quakers had informed local officials about the institution to avoid "unwished seizures". Despite proactive measures, though, when guests wanted to return home they had to undergo interrogation by the Gestapo, who were "keenly interested" to know with whom they had been in the Rest Home.<168> The Gestapo wasn't the only Nazi organ interested in the Frankfurter Hof's guests, as during the first weeks of the Rest Home's existence the suspicions of the local branch of the Frauenschaft-a Nazi women's organization-were "aroused" and the home's first hostess was invited to one of their meetings to explain what she was doing at Falkenstein. She was introduced by the hotel-keeper's daughter, who spoke on

the virtues and good deeds of the Quakers. I simply replied that we had known for many years of the hardships endured by many German friends, and when the Quakers in England asked, 'Who will go out and help them?' I said, 'I will,and I will come here, because this is the most beautiful village in this, the most beautiful mountain district in Germany'. And with that, I smiled round the assembled company and sat down.

The women apparently were completely satisfied.<169>

Staying for a couple weeks at a time in an atmosphere of "peace and freedom from danger", guests came exactly because of the lack of either "out in the world". Howard told of a dismissed "free-thinking" Jewish judge who had been "on the verge of taking his own life in despair" when an invitation to visit the Rest Home reached him. As he left he said tearfully: "I have regained my self-respect and courage here!", then returned home to face his difficulties. A similar case involved a "non-Aryan Christian" pediatrician who had held "an important post in the city" and had treated "over eighteen thousand cases". His statistics having been confiscated, he was "eating out his heart in inactivity". In addition to "racial suffers", the Rest Home also hosted persons "penalised for their political views". One, a Cologne socialworker,

had been dismissed from her office by telephone, but told that she must continue to go there for three weeks, to initiate her successor, the mistress of a local Nazi leader, into her work. It was almost more than [the social worker] could bear to see her beloved work going to pieces in the hands of an incompetent woman of doubtful character.

The wife of the socialworker's brother-"a dreamy idealist who was in prison as a Communist"-also came. Upon her arrival, to Howard she looked "a mere child", but left at the end of her visit

full of renewed health, and of joy at the prospect of a rare visit to her [husband in] prison. But on the very day she was starting, a letter came to tell her that [he] had been moved to a concentration camp, and that there was no prospect of her being allowed to visit him there. [Howard] found her in floods of tears. Then a happy thought struck me, and I persuaded her to smile, as I took a photograph which she could send to him in her next letter. After some months [her husband] was released, and they came together for him to convalesce at the Rest Home.<170>

The Rest Home later moved to St. Josefs-Haus Bad Pyrmont,<171> where American Catholic nuns who "understood why guests needed complete privacy for their recovery" supported the Quakers' objectives. As Americans, they also were under less pressure to comply with anti-Semitic laws.<172> A focal point of German Quakerdom, Quakers and their guests visiting Bad Pyrmont frequently joined in weekly Meeting for Worship at the Rest Home while it was housed in that spa town during the spring and autumn months until 1939-at which time it closed because the war severed British Quakers' connection with German friends and "one had even then the feeling that events were moving towards catastrophe".<173> Although the outbreak of armed conflict overturned Friends' hopes to continue the Rest Home's operation, during the six years it existed it had offered recuperation to some 800 people<174> and touched the lives of "hundred of others" who never had the chance to share "the hospitality of English Friends in this way [but who] were thankful to know of the existence of this 'island far away'".<175> While the Rest Home focused on rehabilitation and not integration/assimilation, it did provide refugees who wished to emigrate with the physical as well as psychological strength necessary to proceed with both means of adaptation upon leaving the Rest Home's protective door.

Battle and Lavendercroft

After its agricultural project at Holwell Hyde ceased operation largely due to disturbances caused by the outbreak of armed conflict, the London-based Friends Committee for Refugees and Aliens changed its focus, as the needs of refugees appealing to it had changed. In the first wave of centers operated by British Friends the point of the training had been to prepare transmigrants for the type of occupation at which they most readily could earn a living in other countries. The war, however, not only made the prospects of emigration more remote, it created the possibility-which for refugees had not before existed-of immediate engagement in agriculture, the Auxiliary Military Pioneer Corps or government training schemes for various forms of industrial work. In 1939 FCRA had created ten residential refugee centers for trainees and one for old or infirm refugees. By September 1941, however, it decided that the greatest need for accommodation existed on the part of the old and infirm; by then there was only a moderate need for training centers. Three of the four centers FCRA subsequently opened were intended for the elderly and the fourth one-oddly, called "Battle"-for mothers and children.

Battle, which consisted of a house with grounds of four and a half acres in Sussex, first had been used by British Quakers as a horticultural training center. With the change of services offered by FCRA and after enduring the "usual internment troubles in 1940", it gained new life as a home for girls who were trained in domestic work as well as gardening. By the end of 1941, though, "so many forms of employment were open to young refugee girls" that Battle could not be filled, so it was decided to accept no new trainees. At that point ten children-a few with mothers, "the rest unaccompanied"-came to the hostel. As the mothers gradually found other accommodations, more children were added until a peak of 18 was achieved. The children ranged in age from two to 14 years and several of them were "by no means easy to manage, having very disturbed backgrounds"; the mothers of three of them were in mental homes. Such as the case-for example-with two sisters, Stella and Liselotte. Stella was six years old and Liselotte three when they came to Battle. Their Jewish father had landed in a concentration camp in Czechoslovakia. Their unwedded mother had arranged to come to England before Liselotte was born, but the baby arrived prematurely, so the woman had to postpone her departure; she reached Britain only five or six days before war broke out. She and her children initially were supported by a regional refugee organization. Despite having found assistance, she began to suffer severe depression, accompanied by ideas of persecution and suicide. In 1942 she entered a mental institution, where she died a year later while Stella and Liselotte were at Battle. Liselotte had spent many months in hospital, and both children were rather frail and needed special care. After they had been at Battle for two and half years a foster mother assumed care for them.

Although at the other end of life, elderly refugees from Nazi-occupied Europe often fared scarcely better than helpless children-despite professional or other achievements they might have enjoyed in the prime of their previous lives on the Continent. FCRA's residential care of elderly refugees actually began in spring 1939, when it opened a large, furnished house in Paddington. At that time Quaker relief workers thought it convenient to have a central location, which about 40 refugees soon occupied. When the Nazi government began bombing the British capital in September 1940, however, Friends found it "urgently necessary" to find safer facilities for the elderly and infirm who had been living in FCRA-sponsored accommodations. Such individuals found their way to Lavender Croft near Hitchin.

Previously, Lavender Croft had housed refugee families whose males were employed locally and who sought accommodation in the neighborhood. Although for a short time the two groups overlapped, the last family soon left. Thereafter the center was run exclusively for elderly refugees who, according to a Quaker report, encountered severe difficulties in coping with the new conditions of their lives:

Uprooted from their homeland late in life, these men and women found it very much harder than did younger refugees to adapt themselves to new ways and to pick up a new language. Though some had relatives in [Britain] who visited them from time to time, for others the reason for their being at Lavender Croft was that they had none. They had, therefore, little to look forward to and little incentive to take an interest in what was going on around them in England. It [was] not surprising that at times the group should turn in on itself, live in the past and make much of minor inconveniences.

The staff felt surprised, however, that its charges did not do so more often and that such a large proportion of them were exceptions to what might be expected to have been the rule. Some of the refugees remained interested in "outside happenings", while a few of the able ones found work in the neighborhood and became self-supporting through part-time employment.

How or the degree to which elderly refugees adjusted to the changes forced upon them or adapted to their new environments depended very much on the individual's specific character-as well as chance. A professional violinist-for one-had previously lived as the guest "of a lady of most exalted title". Later, however, the woman made it "abundantly clear" that she did not appreciate his playing his violin and, generally, relations had become strained

beyond endurance. At Lavender Croft [the man] found to his joy that his playing was not only tolerated but even occasionally welcomed; and when presently he was introduced to some English people in a neighbouring town who had similar interests, and was invited to join their ensemble, he took on a new lease of life.

Although Lavender Croft did not accept refugees in need of nursing, many guests were semi-invalid. Most of them were highly educated people "used to living in comfort and accustomed to the luxury of privacy". Some found it "irksome" having to share sleeping-quarters, so-when numbers permitted-a small room was reserved as a private bedroom for use by each of the residents in turn. Wardens did not find running such a household easy, for it required a "rare mixture of tact and firmness". They cultivated contact with people outside Lavender Croft-"both by encouraging the guests...to meet people...and by inviting Friends and others to visit...and sometimes give talks".

The number of resident guests averaged a dozen permanent guests and a half a dozen other elderly refugees as temporary guests. During summer months, though, younger refugees sometimes were invited to spend short holidays at Lavender Croft; in summer 1944 the number of people in the house rose to 34 as a result of refugees from London on short holiday "in need of a week or so's respite from flying bombs". Friends found that the visits helped keep the usual residents in touch with other people and with outside ideas. Visits from children provided a "special pleasure".

Toward the war's end the number of long-term residents at Lavender Croft declined sharply, with some of the former residents having found residence in nursing homes or "other solutions to their problems". Of those left, "most...had already been living together for too long. Other arrangements were therefore made for each of them". In any case, while the children at Battle presumably were young enough to truly "begin again" and assimilate fully into British society, only some of the elderly at Lavender Croft succeeded in integrating into a society which was not their own and perhaps not even their choice. Above all, adult refugees had to accept that imperial England was no immigration country; their status there would remain one of a foreigner, with little chance of ever being accepted as "British".

Aberdeen Camp

In contrast, the reception afforded refugees from Nazi-occupied Europe in America was markedly different than in Britain. The arrangements made by Quakers for refugees in the quintessential "immigration country" were correspondingly different from those made by British Friends. Above all, New World Quakers sought from the beginning to "Americanize" the "newcomers", while Friends in England are not recorded as having attempted to Anglicize their charges. Expression of the assumption that the best way to help those seeking assistance was to remake the Europeans into "New Americans" can be found in the first refugee project which American Friends Service Committee [AFSC] of Philadelphia initiated. Indeed, the very first sentence of a promotion letter written to attract "guests" to Aberdeen Camp in summer 1938 promised refugees that they would find

a haven for rest and recreation and an opportunity to study American ways...at Aberdeen, a large property on the Hudson River which has been available to [AFSC]. Here cultured newcomers from abroad and Americans may live together-doctors, layers, teachers, writers, musicians and artists.<176>

Quakers intended the project to benefit especially Austrians and Germans "of limited means, who need a congenial home while seeking to establish themselves permanently in the United States".

Perhaps seeking to encourage self-reliance from the start, the letter emphasized that "in no sense is Aberdeen a 'charity' institution". Both foreign and American residents were to pay "a dollar-a-day" toward the expenses. A press release issued about a week later further explained that 35 to 40 persons would live at the camp, including about a dozen Americans drawn from schools and colleges throughout the East and Midwest. Organizers planned Aberdeen Camp as "an experiment in international living and cooperative learning that will be mutually helpful to everyone taking part in it".<177>

Located some 75 miles north of Manhattan on a 50-acre tract opposite the "summer White House" at Hyde Park, the Aberdeen estate consisted of a large mansion, a dockhouse and a barn-all "fully equipped and furnished for school purposes"-an extensive library and a workshop.<178> In such a setting, the camp's sponsors held that life at Aberdeen was not intended to be formal and routine. As a cooperative project residents were meant to share household duties and live "in democratic freedom". At the same time, AFSC provided organized activities of two general types. For one, it offered instruction in languages, literature, American civics and government, as well as in "allied economic and social problems". For another, AFSC strove for a work-balanced-with-recreation program consisting of

swimming, tennis and hiking to caring for the garden which will be one of the principle sources of food. [AFSC] enlisted the interest of local Quaker groups [which] ploughed the land and planted an extensive garden which should produce a generous harvest of vegetables.<179>

Scheduled to open on 20 June and run until 15 September 1938, Aberdeen Camp was believed to be "the first such venture" in the U.S. designed to meet the problem of "first adjustment and rehabilitation of refugees".<180> As such it attracted "interested cooperation" and the contributions of several persons or groups-including the proceeds from a concert given by Jascha Heifetz for the benefit of Austrian refugees.

Plans might sound fine and good, but actual results? In his report on the program written in late August 1938, the camp's director held that the "spirit" of the camp-characterized by "harmony amid variety"-was the result of several causes. For one, AFSC was "wise and fortunate" in its selection of staff. The site placed at its disposal-"with its beautiful setting on the Hudson"-also provided opportunities for "wholesome outdoor life" interspersed with periods of garden- and groundswork. English classes and instruction in aspects of American life afforded mental stimulus and were supplemented by occasional evening or weekend discussions led by staff or visitors on "entertaining or educational" topics. Daily periods of sport or play added "buoyancy of spirit".<181>

As far as the 48 refugee participants themselves, the number of men and women were "almost equal", while the ages of the refugees ranged from eights years to 65, with a dozen of them being under 20. One-third to a quarter of the group's members were Americans, nine were Austrians and the rest Germans. Although a few were Roman Catholic or Protestant, most were Jews. The adult refugees were all "well educated" and the young people had been receiving "a good education" before their exile. Several of the men were physicians, some were lawyers, two were rabbis, one was a banker. Variety in age, religious affiliation, professional or business training, in "abundance of material possessions in the past and to some extent in the present, in past experience and in future outlook" characterized the group.<182> "Harmony" was a "marked characteristic" of their life together.<183>

Perhaps the "characteristic harmony" reflected the refugees' acceptance and practice of Quaker silence. Reports suggest that shared stillness wove together program activities with refugees' need to integrate their recent experiences. At least the director thought the meetings for worship-held briefly each weekday morning, longer on Sundays-proved to be "a valuable and valued element of our camp life". One "beautiful Sunday morning" the group drove to a nearby mountain stream, made breakfast over a fire and then shared a meeting for worship in which there was "centering down" and a

worshipful spirit felt by all, with a general regret...that the hour was so soon over... Our non-Quaker members...readily adopted and appreciated the...meetings for worship irrespective of previous practice and experience. While there has not been any tendency to too much vocal expression, a freedom in speaking has been felt...by all, and used by a considerable number of both Americans and Newcomers. The latter have understood that they should feel at liberty to express themselves in their native tongue if they desired to do so as at first they did, but there has been an increasing tendency to speak in English even when dealing with matters so intimate as the ideas and emotions of religion.<184>

Hostels

As "successful" as it might or not have been, the well-received summer camp at Aberdeen lacked the time, resources or long-term planning necessary to tackle more directly the task of refugee integration or assimilation. Toward those ends Quakers in the United States established larger, on-going hostels- two of which resembled the prototype Scattergood Hostel upon which they were modeled, yet involved significantly different organizational components or goals. All Quaker hostels, however, shared the ultimate goal of helping newly arrived European refugees integrate or assimilate with the cultures in the lands of their ultimate destinations.

Finca Paso Seco

A rare blend of "ideas and emotions", Aberdeen Camp did offer refugees a crash-course on becoming "New Americans". But what of those who had not yet been able to reach America's shores? The Quakers sought to help such individuals as well. At the time one of the best ways to do so was from Cuba, where exiled Europeans could wait until-or, in the event that-the U.S. State Department granted the coveted visas necessary to enter the country.<185> To house and meet other basic needs of such castaways, AFSC established Finca Paso Seco near Havana. AFSC volunteer Emmett Gulley of Newberg, New York-who must have seemed a spectacle to the Cubans, given that he stood almost two and a quarter meters!-drove with his family via the World's Fair in New York City to Miami in July 1939, then flew to Cuba to serve as director of the project. As he later wrote, the founding of Finca Paso Seco was possible because Cuba had "opened her doors" to exiled Europeans, but on the condition that each post $500 bond to guarantee that she or he would not become a public charge. Those fleeing arbitary Nazi tyranny then had to sign an agreement

that they were entering as tourists and would not accept pay for work. Since the refugees were desperate for any place to land, they had to agree. This left them in a terrible condition [with] no money and no way of earning money.<186>

As Gulley-a former Quaker relief agent who had fed the needy in civil war-torn Spain-discovered, most of the refugees previously had applied to enter the United States based on national quotes permitted under U.S. immigration laws. Thus, Cuba became a tropical waiting station while the refugees waited "for their numbers to be called".<187>

To house them, AFSC rented a farm which had a house with 27 rooms and five bathrooms. With this as a center, American Quakers operating the place began assisting "as many refugees as possible", which proved to be about 60 people at a time-mostly men for, as Gulley saw it, in a time when work for pasy was forbidden, men had the "greatest problem". In their case, they could not occupy their time, so would

congregate in groups on the streets of Havana and talk about the trouble they were having, what they had passed through and express apprehension about the future. On the other hand, the women could keep busy about the house, [tending to] handwork and caring for their dependents. The strain on them was minimal compared to the men.<188>

AFSC had very specific refugees in mind in creating Finca Paso Seco, as it saw the project as the center of a diversified service and training program which emphasized training younger refugees to meet the needs of their new lives in foreign countries. The center also served the purpose of a transit camp and provided a basis for the "orderly immigration" of young men and women who were neither children nor adults ready or eligible for independent immigration. AFSC hoped to offer the first group the "advantage" of

assisting in the preparation of temporary buildings for dormitories and workshops and participating in their equipment with new home-made and reconditioned second-hand furniture, affording plenty of opportunities for trade training as well as service.<189>

AFSC provided later groups with as much work of this kind as available and both groups received the more common training in connection with farming or techniques which "might enable them to establish themselves in industry and possibly to introduce new industries into their country of final settlement".

As it did with all of its refugee centers, AFSC sought to run Finca Paso Seco cooperatively and to provide a comprehensive array of services. The staff offered English and Spanish lessons, as well as instruction in "wood turning", carpentry and machinery. The resident refugees also helped in the garden and kitchen, washroom and office. Manual labor, though, seemed to be something new for them, as most of the refugees were "were people of wealth and position in their own countries": as Gulley noted, they included bankers, lawyers and judges, businesspeople, teachers, musicians and others from

nearly all of the white collar walks of life. It was a great trial for many of them to have to work with their hands on [the] farm. [Also] the idea of democracy was bewildering. When I went out and worked with them, I lost face. I was no 'leader' they said. Their idea of leadership meant sitting behind a desk and giving orders but never getting [your] own hands dirty.

Still, the Quaker staff tried to run the hostel according to democratic principles so that the refugess might "begin to learn to particpate" rather than be dicated to. Curiously, the refugees voted to rise

in the wee hours of the morning! All of activities were decided by discussion and vote. It took nearly three months for them to really begin to appreciate the democratic idea of participating in [decision-making]. When they understood the meaning of democracy and how every individual was respected, they became enthusiastic about it.<190>

Common life at Finca Paso Seco did not consist, however, only of work: the community also shared freetime activities as a group. An article in the Jüdische Rundschau, for example, indicated the atmosphere of the place. Its author related:

It was already dark and only by the outlines of the trees and palms could we notice that we were outside of Habana in the open country... Soon we saw from a great distance the brightly lighted castle-like building, and as we entered the yard by the large gate we were at once surrounded and greeted heartily by cheerful people. On our questions, asking about the state of their health and general feeling, the answers came almost in a chorus: 'Very well-excellent-I am happy to be here-I did not think it to be so nice.' The looking and the faces of those people confirmed their words.

The performances were carried out by the very excellent pianist Mr. Franz Rotter<191> and by [two accompanying] violinists. A small but well-instructed chorus as well as piano pieces...completed the program...given with love and eagerness... After a short pause the great surprise of the evening came. The guests in their turn gave performances, the artistic level of which would have given honour to any public concert... The audience thanked with stormy applause. The music evening on the Finca was an adventure, which will have a thankful and pleasant memory. We would have liked to remain in the circle but the necessity for rest for the Finca-people, who have to get up very early for work, as well as the leave of the last train to Havana caused our departure. We felt the sincerity of the farewell 'auf baldiges Widersehen' and equally sincere was in us the wish to be as soon as possible in this circle again.<192>

Not only guests at the farm but other outsiders also played a major role in Finca Paso Seco's daily life. Cuban officials, for example, soon proved to be "suspicious".<193> The center also had visits from armed police, Department of Justice representatives, Army and Navy Intelligence agents and others. Each time, a "quiet talk" and the offer to show them "everything" resulted in

dispersing their fears. The refugees themselves were jittery and fearful. They were all fleeing from a dreadful persecution in Germany and Central Europe. Few had any money to speak of and nearly all of them had relatives who had been left behind.We were entreated to help them. Some of the pitiful cases, we tackled.<194>

In one case, a young couple had married only a week before the man sailed to Cuba, leaving the woman in the Netherlands. He expected to find a way to send for her but before he could Cuba "closed its doors to all European refugees". The Quaker staff at Finca Paso Seco found a government official "with a heart" and upon his advice the woman sailed to Panama, from where she was allowed to enter Cuba and the couple was re-united. Millions of other refugees, however, were not so lucky. The most fortunate of them managed to squeeze through the tightly locked door of entry to the United States, where some of those in turn ended up at Quaker-sponsored centers meant to help the refugees begin the long, complicated processes of integration or, perhaps, even assimilation into their adopted culture.

Quaker Hill

Though modeled after Scattergood Hostel, the Friends-operated refugee center at Quaker Hill differed in key ways from the prototype upon which it was based. Sheltered in a large, white-pillared house donated by a wealthy Quaker manufacturer, the hostel was located in Richmond, Indiana-a Midwest town of 33,000 with a large Quaker heritage and population, as well as home to Earlham, a small Friends college. Much more so than rural Iowa, Richmond suggested the mileau typical of the industrialized, relatively densely populated Lower Midwest stretching from the Mississippi to the headwaters of the Ohio. There, AFSC and volunteer staff who organized Quaker Hill hoped to more easily and fully integrate that project into its surrounding community.

Undertaken at the "urgent request" of Jewish organizations and others working with refugees, Quaker Hill operated on the assumption that a group of people unknown to each other before might learn to live together and work

cooperatively in peace and harmony. The housekeeping, care of the grounds and buildings are shared by all. In addition, all members of the group contributed three hours of work daily-hard physical work-to the hostel. Thus, a sound balance between mental and physical activity was sought.<195>

In contrast to the site on the wind-swept Iowa prairies, in the rolling South-Indiana woods AFSC hoped to place more refugees directly into industrial positions. Located almost equidistant between Cincinnati and Indianapolis, Richmond's 55 manufacturing facilities employed some 4,000 people and produced a diverse assortment of lawn mowers, school bus bodies, metal castings, caskets, farm implements, etc. While occupation retraining per se was not offered, the philantropist who had given the hostel site to AFSC also made provisions for some of the refugees to work at an adjoining four-story oil mill for refugees with business experience

around whom could be developed one or more small business enterprises, which would employ other refugees [or facilitate] some project like putting together pre-fabricated houses...in conjection with the city of Richmond and also the U.S. Government.<196>

Quaker Hill's overseers intended not just the mill to be a vehicle for default occupational therapy, but-like at Scattergood-that the reconstruction of the site<197> itself would offer an

opportunity for the work element found to be desirable in the daily program of [a] Refugee Hostel, as well as the [focus of a] program of the Peace Camp and similar activities for young Friends. A competent foreman [was] secured to direct this work of reconditioning who [could] use tactfully and helpfully the service of these people.<198>

The work component of Quaker Hill, however, often ran better than the educational one at the hostel. Mary Lane Charles-who had volunteered at Scattergood until she transferred to Quaker Hill-reported the Richmond site had endeavored to "fulfill the refugees' need for English in as large a variety of ways as possible". The backbone of the program had been individual tutoring and classes, but the "chief demand" remained that of instruction in English grammar, vocabulary and pronounciation. Although the mostly young Quaker volunteers at the hostel "frequently" offered subjects such as American history, sociology or geography, Charles reported: "our efforts met with little response, except for a class in American literature, given once a week by a teacher from Richmond". During most of the year the staff held two classes daily-one for those with "slight knowledge of English" and one for advanced pupils. Twice a week students from Earlham College's Speech Department visited to give individual phonetics lessons. In addition, refugees were entitled to an hour's tutoring a day if so desired and "most of the residents took advantage of this opportunity". The staff even organized a special table for "beginners" presided over by one of the Civilian Public Service volunteers at Quaker Hill. Various staff shared the responsibility for being available

for conversation in the parlor in the evenings. During several months short current events talks were given after dinner by residents and occasionally by staff-members. This was finally given up on the request of the residents, as many of them were distressed at having to dwell on war news.<199>

The hostel did sponsor a series of panel discussions focused on "subjects of current interest", such as "Economic Causes of the Present War" or a review of "American and European Etiquette". Frequent public-speaking appearances and the writing of articles for local newspapers gave refugees practice in using English skills they were developing at Quaker Hill. Staff encouraged residents to attend lectures or other programs both at Earlham College and at Quaker Hill itself. The hostel held over 30 lectures, often "by someone from Richmond" on aspects American life such as the educational system, journalism in the U.S. or "illustrated travel talks on some region of America". At other times visiting Friends talked about Quaker relief or reform work and gave news of conditions in Europe. In a more informal mode, the staff also hosted teas to which Richmondites were invited-

most of which included a talk by an American guest, usually an Earlham professor, on subjects such as Quakerism, American music, etc... Richmond friends cooperated generouly in inviting residents to their homes for tea or dinner and introducing them to other Americans of similar interests.<200>

If it were not perfect, Quaker Hill's program at least earned praise at least from the New York German-language Jewish newspaper, Der Aufbau, which claimed that refugees who had found a haven at Quaker Hill could

plan in peace and safety, under experienced leadership, a new life... Reinforced in soul and body with new confidence in the future, these new Americans have found a new field of working.<201>

The Aufbau's claim was not exaggerated, as examples of refugee placements secured through Quaker Hill abound. To list a few: doctor Alex Szittya became a resident physician at a general hospital in Chester, Pennsylvania. Johann Suskind located a sales job and drove a delivery van in Indianapolis. Friedrich Schweiger was appointed foreman at company in Evansville, Illinois-while Franz Foges also found employment in that Chicago suburb. Walter Ellinger landed a job at a Cincinnati cookie factory and Gus Ferl a job in Indianapolis. In a less laborious vein, Norbert Silbiger had "a very successful year" directing plays at Richmond's Civic Theater and Earlham College.<202>

Quaker Hill operated from July 1940 till September 1941, at which point it closed "due to immigration restrictions". As its own last report assessed, the hostel had given the 55 refugees-"victims of Europe's terror"-who sojourned there during that time "a chance to find themselves, and to become adjusted and ready for American life and citizenship".<203>

Government-sponsored Camps

Government-sponsored refugee camps ranged considerably in scope and quality. While ignoring those of pre- and post-occupation France or elsewhere due to the involuntary nature of their "guests'" stay, the "friendly" government camps in pre-war Britain and the U.S. toward the war's end mirrored larger political developments at the time. Britain's Kitchener Camp represented a clear case of goodwill on behalf of London's ruling elite. Created before the outbreak of armed hostilities, it offered a transit point for mostly male refugees enroute to other destinations. Under such friendly circumstances, individuals who found refuge there considered themselves to be very lucky.

Those refugees from Nazi-occupied Europe who landed at Fort Ontario in Upstate New York, on the other hand, eventually felt anything but lucky- even if at first the almost one thousand "rescued" refugees thought themselves exceptionally lucky. Their pronounced change of perception had everything to do with American politics, governmental turf wars, bureaucratic inertia and just plain bad luck. The story of those refugees who ended up in the small town of Oswego is a sad yet insight-shedding one.<204> Perhaps more than any other, it is an example of how government-sponsored refugee "assistance" can inhibit rather than facilitate newcomers' adaptation to a host country.

Kitchener Camp

Parallel with private efforts to save refugees from Nazi Germany before World War II began, a movement arose in Britain which lobbied Whitehall to rescue young men who had been thrown into concentration camps during Kristallnacht or who were in danger of landing in camps unless they fled the Third Reich at once. In a rare act of relative generosity, the Berlin regime agreed to release such men upon the condition that they immediately left the country. According to Hans Hammerstein-a Jewish Pädagoge from Stettin- in mid January 1939 he and some 50 other inmates stood before a KZ commandant wearing striped convicts' garments, their heads

close-cropped to near baldness and, after spending sixty days in this inferno, hearing, yet not hearing: 'Don't think you are released because your bill is settled. The contrary is the case. We give you "leave" so that you can pack and clear out of Germany. If not, we will take you in here again.' But how could [they] leave Germany without proof that some other country would let us in? What about wives and children? The many 'good' countries, so proud of their respect for human rights, had closed their doors to German-Jewish refugees.<205>

The difficulty in helping such individuals was that it was nearly impossible to find countries of permanent resettlement for the thousands in "mortal peril. What was required [then] was a temporary city of refuge".<206>

The Reichsvertretung in Berlin pleaded the Council for German Jewry -an organization of Jewish communities in Great Britain and in the British Commonwealth-to help get endangered young men out of the Nazis' reach. With financial as well as political backing from prominent British Jews such as the director of the British department-store concern Marks and Spencer or Shell's former managing director, the Council obtained use of the Kitchener Camp.<207> A coastal depot adjacent to Richborough in Kent, the installation "was celebrated both in ancient and modern British history"-first as a famous Roman fortress, later during World War I as the site of one of the country's largest camps for training engineers and for sending munition to France.<208>

In February 1939 one hundred skilled workers-"the first batch of the rescued"-were brought from Germany to rebuild and prepare the camp.<209> First they furnished Kitchener Camp, consisting of 48 barracks-each capable of holding 48 persons-and two dining halls, each with a capacity of 1,500. The men then established Haig Camp, which became a center of "education and entertainment". That the men were offered instruction and freetime activities emphasized the stark contrast between the concentration camp from which many had been rescued and the

construction camp in which they waited for the start of a new life... The men were free to move, they governed themselves, arranged their work, their play and their education. Above all, there was respect for the human person.<210>

Once the two-headed camp-for Kitchener and Haig really served as one facility-were inhabitable, additional men arrived. The British Home Office allowed block permits for transports from the Continent, without requiring individual passports or visas; in turn, the Council assured Whitehall that those admitted would not stay permanently in Britain nor would accept paid work without securing special permission. In addition, the Council set the following conditions for acceptance into the camp: one had to (a) be between the ages 18 and 40; (b) have a documented prospect for overseas emigration; and (c) prove an urgent need to depart Nazi-occupied territories. Of the camp's 3,500 places, 2,000 were assigned to German and 1,000 to Austrian Jews, and 500 to "non-Aryan" Christians or refugees from Italy, Belgium or Czechoslovakia.<211>

Regardless of who came or from where, the refugees had to establish a workable communal life. Toward that end the men adopted the principles of a collective community. Few had private possessions besides trunks of clothes they might have brought with them. Any money they earned through agricul-tural work, technical training or artistic talents went into a common fund. Each man received a small, equal amount of pocket-money; if he needed the fare to London or elsewhere, for example, he received it from common funds: "The place, brimming with good will, was a model for camps which in the grim years to come were to be the habitations of millions of men and women deprived of a home".<212>

Besides a form of collective organization, the men had to develop a daily routine incorporating work, education and freetime. Many were engaged in the work of the camp itself, while others worked as temporary hired hands on neighboring farms or received agricultural and technical training within the compound. At the same time, each had English lessons for two hours a day- partly by "Linguaphone" records, partly through classes in basic English. English school teachers in the neighborhood volunteered their time and each night a

relay of men and women came to instruct; on the day of rest [they] came in their cars to take their pupils for a drive and show them the beauty of Canterbury, Dover, Margate or Ramsgate. Every evening the men organised entertainment: a lecture on a country of prospective immigration, or on England and English life, a concert or a play.<213>

In terms of semi-formal instruction and cultural life, the camp included "a wealth of talents in the arts": music, drama, dancing, etc. Among the exiled Austrians-for example-were first violins from the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra and singers who had been "the pride of the city's cafés". In addition, camp artists supplied musical and dramatic entertainment for neighboring coastal townfolk-which "made the refugees popular. Through that popularity it was possible to bring "some hundreds" of the men's wives to England to be domestic servants in Kentish homes.

Besides English, Hebrew was taught to those waiting to emigrate to Palestine and Spanish to those preparing to go to Latin America. The camp included a significant "intelligentsia" and organized a "popular university" in which scientists and writers, lawyers and former communal leaders, gave lectures in the evening-some in German, some in English. The men also produced an English-language magazine featuring advice and entertainment. Through the gift of a the head of the British film industry and the founder of the Odeon circuit, the camp had a film theater which run by the residents.<214>

This rich, almost idyllic existence proved to be short-lived, however, as the eruption of war in September 1939 brought a transformation if not an end of many of the camp's activities. The last week preceding the outbreak the camp saw "feverish activity" to bring from the Continent as many more individuals as could be rescued before "the gates were closed and barred". Those in the camp immediately became engaged in defence work in surrounding costal towns. Restriction was imposed, however, on their movement and there was talk of internment. The refugees suddenly became "enemy aliens" and subject to restrictions "required for national security".<215>

In May 1940 "talk" of internment became the imposition of internment and the model camp that Kitchener had been became-in effect if not in name -a prison. As soon as it could be arranged, the men who resided there left either to serve the Royal Army in the form of the Auxiliary Military Pioneer Corps, or for formal internment on the Isle of Man or elsewhere as "enemy aliens".<216> At the point that armed hostilities erupted, any hopes the dejected men had of finding a niche in British society shattered.

Fort Ontario

While events in Britain drastically altered the reception refugees from the Continent found across the Channel, individuals in the U.S. government- such as Assistant Secretary of State Breckenridge Long-adamantly opposed allowing additional immigrants in general, Jews in specific, into the country beyond those already allowed by the National Origins Quota System<217> Act of 1924, legislation which purposely discouraged new arrivals from Southern or Eastern Europe and halted altogether would-be Asian immigrants. Tellingly, during a hearing to consider permission for 20,000 non-working-age refugee children to enter the country as an emergency measure, the wife of the U.S. Commissioner of Immigration testified: "Twenty thousand children would all too soon grow up into twenty thousand ugly adults".<218> Despite pleas from influential Jewish or Christian bodies such as the National Refugee Service and AFSC, Congress would not budge<219> from its stance of no visas issued outside the quota system-the truth being that for several of the years between 1933 to 1939 several European countries' quotas went unfilled.<220>

In such a decidedly anti-immigrant climate,<221> President Roosevelt's announcement on 9 June 1944 that "approximately 1,000 refugees should be immediately brought from Italy to this country" came most unexpectedly.<222> Issued with an air of royal prerogative, the move confirmed what some critics already had concluded: FDR was "a politician first, then a humanitarian".<223> The decision, though, was not made out of compassion. According to Edward Marks, Jr., a U.S. War Refugee Program [WRP] officer who later wrote a report about Fort Ontario, the Oswego project was undertaken primarily

to further long-range rescue objectives of the War Refugee Board. A secondary motive was to relieve overtaxed Allied supply lines in Italy. One purpose, of course, was to assist the people involved, but at the time the project was conceived this was not one of the major considerations.<224>

In any case Roosevelt's sudden action set governmental machinery into motion which resulted in the Department of Interior-the Federal agency in charge of parks, public works, petroleum, mines, fish and wildlife, Native Americans, Alaska, Hawaii, etc.-assuming the task of selecting 1,000 from tens of thousands of refugees swarming over Italy to sail to America. To escort them across the dangerous North Atlantic, the agency chose Ruth Gruber, a young New York journalist and daughter of Polish Jews who spoke German and Yiddish in addition to English. Once arriving in South Europe, she and her assistants set about interviewing candidates with criteria outlined by FDR himself: "include a reasonable proportion of various categories of persecuted peoples who have fled to Italy [and] for whom other havens of refuge are not immediately available".<225> Beyond that, the War Refugee Board [WRB] made additional suggestions regarding the selection process:

(1) that the persons chosen be taken in family groups, community groups, or groups that had worked together; (2) that those in the greatest need be selected; (3) that an attempt be made to obtain a cross section of skills that would make the shelter as nearly self-sustaining as possible.<226>

The WRB also emphasized that nothing should be offered to the refugees beyond "safety and subsistence" and that every precaution should be taken to avoid any statements that might lead later to accusations of "broken promises". As the process of selection developed, additional criteria determined which of the many applicants would be accepted for transference:

  1. No families with healthy males of military age.
  2. No families including members with contagious or loathsome diseases
  3. No separation of family groups.
  4. As many as possible from camps, if they filled other requirements.

To avoid misunderstandings, candidates had to sign a statement translated into German, French and Italian: "I declare that I have fully understood the following conditions of the offer of the United States Government and that I have accepted them:

A.I. I shall be brought to a reception center in Forth Ontario in the State of New York, where I shall remain as a guest of the United States until the end of the war. Then I must return to my homeland.
II. There I shall live under the restrictions imposed by the American security officials. III. No promise of any kind was given to me either in regard to a possibility of working or permission to work outside the reception center, or in regard to the possibility of remaining in the United states after the war.
B. I declare further, since I cannot take along any valuta under existing laws, that I shall accept in exchange for my valuta the same amount in dollars, which the authorities in the United States will eventually pay me after my arrival in America.<227>

Of the 1,000 initially selected, second and third interviews disqualified 18 as alleged "Fifth-Columnists" or spies. Those remaining refugees designated for evacuation hailed from 18 countries, with most of the 982 individuals coming from Yugoslavia (369), Austria (237), Poland (146), Germany (96) or Czechoslovakia (41).<228> This diversity of nationalities would prove to be more disruptive than at first expected; already on the ship during the crossing to America the War Relocation Authority [WRA] representative on-board noticed

the Yugoslavs are the most articulate, antagonistic, and difficult to deal with... They have a strong group consciousness, but every one of them seems to be most interested in himself, and their experiences do not seem to have induced any marked degree of willingness to sacrifice for the welfare of the group.<229>

Although they have lost temporary control of properties and some had been in concentration camps for a period, the Yugoslavs interviewed had not suffered the torture or physical hardships which other groups had experienced. "Even the Orthodox Jews of the Yugoslav group" noted a report, "seem to maintain a national rather than a religious affiliation".<230>

Cultural and lingual differences repeatedly would play a divisive role in the future of Fort Ontario. In the early stages, however, such differences paled in contrast to the excitement of having been offered what the refugees saw as a reprieve from Nazi persecution. As their ship entered New York Harbor on 3 August 1944 the exiled Europeans waved at the Statue of Liberty "joyously, tearfully, as if she were a granite Mother welcoming them to the new homeland".<231> After spending a night on the ship, undergoing a thorough medical check and a shower of DDT,<232> being tagged with a luggage slip and facing a tightly controlled meeting with the press, the refugees filed into a train bound for upstate New York. In doing so, although on the other side of the world, some of the refugees experienced flashbacks to rides in cattle cars which had taken them to concentration camps.

In the early morning came to a stop on a rail siding next to Fort Ontario in Oswego.<233> Similar to the previous night, some refugees experienced dread-laced anxiety when they might have felt happy anticipation:

'A fence! Another fence!' a man gasped... For there, stretching as far as [one] could see, was a tall hurricane fence of chain links, topped with three rows of barbed wire. [A second man] reached forward, [asking] 'How could you do this? In the free America! It's another concentration camp!' The train grew ominously silent. 'It's an old army post.' [Gruber] tried to dispel some of the fear. 'All army camps in America have fences.' [But] the words had no effect. The silence persisted, awkward, nervous, disbelieving.<234>

The refugees' fear soon turned to excitement, however, as the army gave permission for them to disembark and as they did, they noticed that "dozens" of Oswegonians were watching them from the roof of a nearby tank factory, while other citizens of the town hurried out of the houses lining the street along the camp. Reporters from distant as well as local newspapers "swarmed" around the refugees, photographers snapped their shutters and movie cameras rolled,

catching the weary and frightened eyes of the elderly, the tentative smiles of teenagers, the lost look of children still without shoes, a violinist clutching his fiddle in a broken case, the knapsacks and torn boxes tied with rope in which many carried their most precious possessions, the flotsam and jetsam of the war, wearing their cardboard tags: 'U.S. Army-Casual Baggage.'<235>

Perhaps the Europeans felt like "casual baggage", given the extent to which they had been tossed about since leaving their respective Old World homes. Now, though, they found themselves in an unfamiliar albeit pleasant setting: Fort Ontario occupied 80 "lush acres" overlooking the Great Lake from which it received its name and "stately shades trees" protected rows of two-story white barracks that provided a backdrop for red brick homes surrounded by a broad green parade ground. The scene was one of "idyllic beauty".<236> Used by the British against the French in the 1750s, the original Fort Ontario itself sat nearby in partial ruins. The refugees would have a much longer-than-expected chance to become acquainted with the physical plant; for the time being, however, more pressing concerns demanded their attention.

"Ravenously hungry" because they eaten little the previous day, the refugees soon were led to white-washed mess halls with tables "stacked with pitchers of steaming hot coffee, bottles of rich cold milk, giant boxes of cornflakes, loaves of white bread, jars of peanut butter and bowls overflowing with hard-boiled eggs".<237> The refugees busily descended on the tables. Gruber later recalled that one women-her mouth stuffed with one egg-"reached into the bowl for another [saying] 'We never got fed like this in Gurs'".<238>

Following breakfast, the camp observed a customs inspection-"fast and cursory". Some of the customs officials were

misty-eyed as they looked into torn suitcases that held nothing but newspapers, or family photos wrapped in frayed underwear or rags. A customs agent who found only one torn shirt in a battered bag copied the man's name from his tag, spent his lunch hour in a shop and bought the man a pair of pants, a shirt and a jacket.<239>

The refugees then were free to move into their new accommodations- accompanied by "an explosion of euphoria". Gruber went with some of the people to their new homes in the made-over barracks. One woman stared at the entrance of her apartment and marveled: "Such efficiency. Only America can do this". Amazed that her family's name already hung on the door, she said "I feel already it's mine. My first apartment". Another woman raced downstairs, exclaiming "Fräulein Ruth-this is more beautiful than anything in Europe. I have a villa by the sea!"<240>

As the European exiles soon were to discover, however, not only the physical aspects of Fort Ontario would impress them-at least, at first-but the human ones, too. "How can you have a fence in America?" some of the refugees who were still angry confronted Gruber. She, though, was focused on others, "born survivors" had already had turned the fence into a "bridge". Peering through the chain links, the refugees inside the fence talked and motioned in sign language to the people of Oswego who were talking and

gesticulating just as animatedly outside the fence. Some Oswegonians sprinted home, armed themselves with clothing, especially with children's shoes, and tossed them like baseballs over the top of the fence. Others shoved cookies and candy through the metal chains. A sweet-faced nine-year-old...brought her Shirley Temple doll for a wistful little girl her own age.<241>

Initially the government quarantined the refugees for fear of disease and they had to remain inside the fence which surrounded Fort Ontario. That did not stop them, however, from making acquaintance with the townspeople. The two groups "swapped accents and souvenirs" and in time "curiosity and generous impulse" led to friendship. Later, to celebrate the end of quarantine, an open house was held at which almost 5,000 Oswegonians and others were invited to the fort. The open house was intended as a get-acquainted gathering, but also to disabuse the people of Oswego of the misconception that the refugees were living "in the lap of luxury". The visitors freely walked around, saw some of the apartments and judged for themselves the scale on which the fort was being operated-in stark contrast to the image evoked by rampant rumors.<242>

Even as Americans from the surrounding area came into the camp, the children from the camp went out into the surrounding area-to attend school. Many of older ones had not had any "school experience of a normal character" for some years, while most of the younger ones either had never been inside a school or had only brief periods of "impromptu schooling" during their years of flight,<243> sometimes in the very camps in which they were confined. Therefore, from the beginning, the camp's administration wished the children to attend Oswego's schools. Normally the public school system would have been unable to absorb additional children in its regular classes. The town recently had lost population, however, so teacher-pupil ratios had declined and the addition of a few children in each class actually helped the flagging school system qualify for state funds granted on a per capita basis. Private agencies also offered to transport refugee children to schools that were not within walking distance and to furnish them with school books, others supplies and hot-lunch money. Once all arrangements were in place, several weeks passed between the decision that the children could attend the school and the actual opening of the schools. This was a busy period, with school officials "unstintingly" giving time to register and grade students from the shelter. Theirs' was a difficult task due to the variety of languages involved and the gaps in school attendance for most of the children. School officials wished to avoid placing older children whose experience had matured them in classes with children who were very much younger but had had constant schooling. There was thought of establishing special classes, but WRA representatives as well as parents, private organizations and school officials agreed that much of the value of having the refugee children attend public school would be lost if they were in segregated classes. In order to the bridge the gap, private agencies arranged for several weeks of intensive English instruction for the children before the school year began. This, together with "a knack for picking up languages gained during their refugee years", enabled many of the children to catch on quickly and be assigned to a grade commensurate with their age.<244>

As the novelty of their new lives wore off and as unfounded assumptions that they would enjoy freedom of movement in the United States dissolved, the refugees slowly grew restless and impatient as weeks of confinement turned into months-and eventually more than a year. As WRP officer Marks later testified, despite its many "windows to the world outside", Fort Ontario never resembled a normal community. Its residents

slept and ate and worked and studied and took part in leisure-time activities. They married, had babies and died. But they lacked the one thing that they wanted most- freedom. They were permitted outside the shelter only for certain hours each day and could not go beyond the city's environs. It was not simply that they were confined, but that their detention was of such an indeterminate nature [that they lived in] a kind of limbo... The experience was the more tantalizing because they were prisoners on the very brink of liberty. Many were able to take a rational view and keep their resilience. But others who could not accept the fact that they were actually enjoying less freedom [in the U.S.] than abroad showed signs of deterioration. At times they were restless, moody, rumor-ridden, even childish in their behavior.<245>

As the war in Europe drew to an end, the refugees' dread of detention was increasingly replaced by fear that they would be repatriated to lands for which they had come to feel revulsion. They feared persecution in their home-lands, as well as returning to communities in which they had lost family members or friends. The atmosphere at Fort Ontario grew so grim that in December 1944 the government brought a psychologist in to interview some of the refugees and issue a report. The consultant-who possessed "a marked bias against the operation of camps when any more normal type of living arrangement [was] available"-identified the following as reasons why the camp seemed "unhealthy and the refugees restless and dissatisfied":

isolation and loss of freedom, together with too close contact with an unchanging group; loss of money and social position; envy of people with freedom to live more fruitful lives; and the indeterminate nature of the detention.<246>

New daily-life restrictions combined with old prejudices ignited an inflammable acrimony which eventually fell upon Fort Ontario's internees. Whatever the sources, after some time the refugees began to complain first about cultural differences and "inadequacies" of their American hosts, then -in an uglier vein-about fellow refugees of other nationalities: the former seemed mostly innocuous, the later painfully divisive. As one man complained to Gruber,

'Those two slices of white bread they give us...they're on one tooth. We want bread you can cut yourself with a knife.' He circled his left arm as if he were embracing a round loaf; then, with his right hand clutching an imaginary knife, he sawed through the bread, his eyes shut as if he could still smell the delicious aromas of the bakeshops of his childhood.<247>

A columnist thereafter charged that the camp's mess had been serving the refugees "uneatable white bread and undrinkable bitter tea" and the issue of what kind of bread the camp served became a cause cél\|[squ ]\|bre. Finally, the camp director agreed to install a black-bread bakery on the premises-thus quickly squelching a would-be Bread Riot. He failed later, though, to so easily extinguish a bigger, more explosive outbreak of discontent and malice: on the last Friday evening that Gruber served at the camp, a certain rabbi led the service who spoke Hebrew, Ladino (used by many Balkans Jews) and Serbo-Croatian. When he began his sermon in the last language, two women behind Gruber leaned forward and complained to her. A few men then walked out of the chapel; a devoute Mormon, believing the service was over Fort Ontario's director followed them. When the service ended Gruber heard a small cluster of men protest: "How dare he give a sermon in a language not one of us understands?" An Austrian Jew explained to her that while "most people" in the camp-"even the Yugoslavs"-understood German, only the Yugoslavs understood Serbo-Croatian. At that point a Yugoslav

waved his fist at some of the Germans. 'You are Germans first, then Jews. You want to inflict the German language on everyone. Remember, out of seventy-thousand, the Germans have wiped out sixty-six thousand Yugoslav Jews. We want to kill the German language in our minds, in our hearts, in our souls. We have the right to our language. But in this camp the hated German language is constantly thrown at us.'

Bitter resentment stored up for generations had broken the Sabbath peace.<248>

One refugee later commented: "Look what's happening to us... That we can have a fight over such a little thing. There's a war against us in the world, and we fight among ourselves. It's a disgrace". Despite the threat such a development represented, the refugees slid into intra-camp demoralization. Besides squabbling with each other and resigning en masse from the refugee-elected Advisory Council, the refugees simply fell more and more away from the camp's common life. In winter 1944-45, for example, the director found it increasingly difficult to recruit refugees for essential maintenance tasks, especially tasks involving heavy outdoor labor. Camp residents resisted work-ing outdoors in the frigid Oswego winter, so the camp lacked able-bodied men to unload coal, shovel snow, and perform roads and grounds maintenance. Residents even briefly went on strike against unloading coal.<249>

The main explanation for such self-destructive behavior consists of the refugees' stagnate status. Officially they had reached America as "guests" of FDR's, who made the gesture to appease American Jews and their supporters "without antagonizing restrictionists".<250> The State Department, however, strongly disapproved of the move and resisted granting the exiles immigrant status. Congress acted hostile towards immigrants in any case and the public -although mostly sympathetic-could not be aroused to take the refugees' fate to heart enough to motivate effective popular action. In effect, the Europeans interned at fortified Fort Ontario became prisoners of their own "freedom". According to WRP officer Marks, despite the WRA's efforts, private relief and social service agencies, the refugees, their relatives or friends it took 18 months before a satisfactory solution could be found to the dilemma at Fort Ontario. It took a Congressional investigation, an inquiry by three government depart-ments and finally action by FDR's successor, President Truman himself, to release the refugees. But, Marks noted, when the time came for them to leave,

most of them faced the future with confidence. Their health was improved. They had learned the language and many of the customs of America. Although their only point of vantage was the main street of a small town in upstate New York, they had acquired a surprising sense of values and perspective about their chances in the days ahead.<251>

Footnotes:

<1>

Besides facilitating integration and assimilation, Friends' efforts served a second vital role. While Quaker efforts on behalf of refugees in America were "unique, concentrating as they did on orientation and Americanization", their importance did not stop there. Even if only smallscale pilot projects, they "signaled to the big relief agencies the way that refugees should be treated"- with respect and the whole person in mind (Genizi, 1983, p. 193).

<2>

While this study considers the formation of "American" identities, in theory similar experiences might have been true for European refugees who fled Nazism and landed in a "New World" countries: Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Argentina, Brazil, etc. One reason for focusing on those who landed in the U.S. is that more refugees settled there than in all the other countries combined (Kirk, 1995, p. 171). From "Greater Germany" alone- taking statistics from Germany as of June 1933 through the end of 1941 and from annexed Austria from 1939 to 1941- 104,098 refugees made their way to the United States (Kent, 1953, pp. 11-12). Wyman claimed that from 1933 to 1945 "something like 250,000 refugees from Nazism reached safety" in the U.S. (1968, p. 209).

<3>

Saenger, 1941, p. 103.

<4>

Ibid.

<5>

Ibid., p. 111.

<6>

John Rich, "Why, Where, Who- the Refugees?", Survey Graphic, November 1940.

<7>

Both definitions come from Webster's New World Dictionary, New York: 1989.

<8>

Kent, 1953, p. 8.

<9>

Kent, 1953, p. 17.

<10>

Davie, 1947, p. 34.

<11>

James McDonald, Letter to the League of Nation's Secretary General, 1935.

<12>

Wasserstein in Jackman, 1983, p. 250.

<13>

Lehmann, 1976, p. 33.

<14>

Gilbert, 1987, p. 33.

For an account of Nazi persecution of Austrian Sozialdemokraten and of their press in exile following the Anschluß, see Scheu (1968, pp. 5-9 and 34-39) or Goldner (1977, pp. 17-32); for persecution and flight of Austrian political refugees in general, see Maimann (1978, pp. 1-22).

<15>

Being some of the Nazis' most hated enemies, political figures hoping to escape the Reich could not submit applications to the state and await official permission to leave. If they left with intact and appropriate papers at all, many of them did so with falsified passports or other documents. See Schwarz and Wegner's description of that phenomenon(1964, pp. 15-20).

<16>

The Paris Assistance Committee reported in September 1934 that it alone had registered 20,000 German émigrés. In May 1935 it held that from a total of approxiamately 65,000 émigrés in Europe, 40-45,000 were Jews. Those numbers could not be confirmed: "One may well assume, however, that already in 1933 the number of émigrés went at least into the tens of thouands". Sozialdemokratische exiles alone were estimated at being 6,000 in all of Europe- half of whom received assistance from aid organizations (Matthias, 1952, p. 18). See Davie, Ibid., pp. 113-114 for information on organizations which assisted political exiles.

In absolute numbers, France was Europe's largest receiver of émigrés and the second largest in the world (Fabian, 1978, pp. 15-16). According to Tartakower and Grossman (1944), the total number of German-speaking refugees from Nazism from 1933 to 1943 totaled circa 285,000- which, if correct, means that more than half of that number passed through France.

<17>

Partially German-speaking and on main rail arteries between Berlin and Vienna, Prague seemed a natural site for Sozialdemokraten in exil: "One could illegally slip behind Bohemia's frontier forests into Bavaria, Saxony, central Germany and Silesia. Also, there existed an intact German workers' movement in the frontier areas of Bohemia and Moravia which provided a basis- albeit small- for the support of worker opposition in Germany". With Austria's annexation in May 1938, the party transferred its operations to Paris (Ibid., p. 20).

<18>

In the first wave of German refugees, about 2,000 persons fled to Switzerland. Their numbers gradually increased during the 1930s and rose to "somewhere between ten and twelve thousand" following the annexation of Austria in 1938: "Because the refugees were constantly encouraged to proceed to other countries", only 7,100 foreigners were living in Switzerland in September 1939- not counting various diplomatic corps. During the six years of war, "some 300,000" fled to Switzerland, "a figure that included many military refugees and deserters" (Pfanner in Jackman, Ibid., pp. 236-237). Refugees from the Reich did not only end up in European countries. Ultimately, Brazil and Argentina absorbed some 10,000 each, 9,000 found a temporary haven in the Chinese port of Shanghai, Australia took in 7,000 and South Africa 5,000 (Kwiet in Pehle, 1988, p. 139). [Berg-man (in Jackman, Ibid., p. 284) claims 17,000 German or Austrian refugees came to Shanghai.] Canada accepted "a grand total" of some 5,000 refugees, of whom "just over thirty-five hundred were Jews" (Abella and Troper in Jackman, Ibid., 259) and 1,500 were internees (Ibid, p. 275). Statistics of German/Jewish refugees reaching circum-Caribbean countries remain unexact: between 1939-40 2,914 immigrants of all origins entered Venezuela and 597 came between 1941-44 (from the total of whom six hundred were "overt Jews"); 3,695 Jews immigrated to Columbia from 1933-43 (of whom 2,347 were German-speaking); "no more than seven hundred German-speaking Jewish refugees" settled in Mexico during the "peak migration years"; "about eight hundred" refugees lived at Sosua, a Jewish settlement in the Dominican Republic; between "twelve and twenty thousand" Jewish exiles arrived in Cuba between 1933 and 1944. Of the last group, 49% came from "Greater Germany", one-quarter were "intellectual professionals" and 2.6 percent "described themselves as artists" (Elkin in Jackman, Ibid., pp. 293-297).

<19>

Wasserstein in Hirschfeld, 1984, p. 69.

By April 1939 Britain had admitted 20,300 adult and more than 4,800 child refugees from Germany, annexed Austria and former Czechoslovakia; by the time war broke out, the number had doubled (Carsten in Hirschfeld, 1984, p. 13). According to Hirschfeld (p. 2), "just under 300,000 people escaped from Germany (excluding Austria and the Sudetenland) between January 1933 and October 1941, before an official ban on emigration was declared. Thus circa 10 to 15 per cent of them found refuge in Great Britain. The majority of these refugees were of German-Jewish origin". See Röder (1968, pp. 20-26) for numbers of pre-war refugees in the UK.

<20>

See Matthias (1968, pp. 25-47) for a thorough outline of the German SPD in exile.

<21>

88% of those rendered "stateless" were of Jewish origin (Tutas, 1975, p. 158-159).

For a review of Nazi Germany's "denaturalization" of citizens, see Lehmann (1976, pp. 47-54).

<22>

Ibid., pp. 62-65.

<23>

See Zuckmayer, 1984, p. 331.

<24>

Lemke in Grassl, 1979, pp. 24-28.

<25>

Ibid.

<26>

Upon request, the names have been changed. All material in this section comes from an interview with "Ilse" conducted by George and Lillian Pemberton, and Earle and Marjorie Edwards in October 1994. After some 55 years in America, Stahl still spoke English with a broad German accent; her lingual mistakes and idiosyncracies have been left intact.

<27>

Stahl later maintained: "Everybody- even the Friends- had difficulties to accept us. Honestly! The Friends didn't make it difficult for us [though], because they were the last ones to whom we were handed and they didn't want to go out [and fail us] completely" (Ibid .

<28>

The Communists were not the only German political party to exhibit solidarity; the Sozialdemokraten did, too- if of a different nature. A former secretary of Dresden's local SPD chapter and later a Scattergood Hostel guest, Gertrude Hesse reported: "our party is violently opposed to Hitler and his gangster methods and when he came to power in March 1933 one of his first steps was to occupy the offices and newspaper buildings of the Social Democratic Party and to burn all their books in public places by his storm troops. Many of our active members, no matter whether Jews or Aryans, men or women, were arrested, badly treated and emprisoned [sic] for years: only because they have been members of our party. In spite of all that, we tried to keep in contact with our membership, we collected money, to help those families where the supporter was in jail or in a concentration camp, we sent small parcels to the prisoners, gave information about the real situation to our friends in foreign countries and so on" (Gertrude Hesse, Speech Transcript, 5.XI.41 .

<29>

ELM, Interview with MLT, 27.X.95.

<30>

Ibid.

<31>

Benz, 1994, p. 12.

<32>

Ibid., pp. 12-13.

<33>

Jacobsen, 1993, p. 120.

Two days after Goebbel's speech, the regime forbade the release of Fritz Lang's Das Testament des Dr. Mabuse, maintaining the film "endangered public order and security". Six weeks later on 10 May, the regime sanctioned burning thousands of books by "degenerate" or "non-Ayran" authors in Berlin. The event gave unmistakeable notice to Germany's literary and intellectual circles of Nazi aims of cultural control. (See Wittmann, 1991, pp. 329-330

<34>

See Beyerchen in Jackman (Ibid., pp. 36-38) for examples of both men's ideas on "culture"; see Poliakov and Wulf (1959) for samples of the Nazi elite's Weltanschauung.

<35>

See Bessel's section on Swing-Jugend (1987, pp. 37-40). See Wulf (1983, chapter 7) for documents related to political developments in the Third Reich in 1933 regarding music.

The Nazis' purge of musical life in Germany "was executed swiftly and ruthlessly, legally or violent". Brownshirts staged demonstrations to voice disapproval of "undesirable" conductors, operas or stage performances. Authorities dissolved existing professional music organizations such as the Deutsche Konzertgeberbund and replaced them with "pure" German ones such as the Reichsmusikkammer: "Great artists, rooted in German tradition, were dismissed overnight, mostly on racial grounds... Having been affiliated with a leftist political party or associated with Jewish or radical artists was also sufficient cause for discharge. Tenure rights were abrogated, and appeals were ignored, although everything went through pseudolegal "channels'". The Nazis coined the term Kulturbolschewismus to "denote a type of unacceptable modernism or leftist tendency. Whether performers or composers, critics or authors, publishers or impresarios, teachers or scholars, everybody was subjected to questionnaires, investigations, and denunciations" (Schwarz in Jackman, Ibid., p. 136).

<36>

See Daiber (1995, pp. 19-32) or Snyder (1976, p. 345) for descriptions of the co-opting of German theater by the Nationalsozialist-state machine.

<37>

See Stephan (1993) for an outline of the Nazis' control of German culture after 1933.

<38>

The Nazis' Literaturpolitik directly reflected the regime's longterm political aims; see Barbian (1995) and Beutin (1994) for a review of literature's role in the Third Reich. For an account of German writers' struggle to continue their craft in exile, see Anders (1962).

<39>

The majority of Germany's writers who fled after Hitler's Machtergreifung left the country in 1933: "The flight of [writers]- as opposed to other refugees- was set into motion after 30 January and climbed after waves of arrests which followed the burning of the Reichstag on 27 February and after the burning of books on 10 May"(Wegner, 1967, p. 31). See Brenner in Kunisch (1965) for a review of the distribution of German writers in exile.

<40>

Heinrich Mann, 1983, p. 140.

The Nazis forced Mann to surrender his post at the Prussian Academy of Arts in 1933.

<41>

Klaus Mann once wrote: "emigration was not good. In this world of nation-states and of nationalism a person without a nation- a stateless person- feels sick. He has unaccept-abilities; the officials of the receiver country treat him with mistrust; he will be harassed. Also, possibilities of being of service don't easily offer themselves. We should take in the banned? Which authority defends his rights? He has "nothing behind him'- no organization, no power, no group. He who belongs to no group is powerless in this world of the collective, of the masses. He who belongs to no community is alone". (Die Emigration war nicht gut. Das Dritte Reich war schlimmer, from the manuscript Der Wendepunkt. Städtische Bibliothek Munich

<42>

Klaus Mann, Ibid.

While Mann spoke of the "real" or "better" Germany, exiled German Sozialdemokrat Otto Wels coined the phrase das andere Deutschland in August 1933 in Paris at a conference of the Socialist Workers International (Matthias, Ibid., pp. 165-166 and 282).

<43>

Many prominent visual artists of the Weimarer Republik era left Germany with the rise of the Nazis: Paul Klee returned to Switzerland, Wassily Kandinsky went to Paris, Oskar Kokoschka moved to England, Max Beckmann settled in Amsterdam and George Grosz emigrated to America. Exiled Germanic literary figures included Bertolt Brecht, Joseph Roth, Stefan Zweig, Carl Zuckmayer, Ernst Toller and members of the Mann family. Many of those in exile initially believed or at least hoped that the Nazi regime could not last. By 1935-36, however, "it became clear to émigrés how very much they had deceived themselves concerning the actual political and economic strengths of the Third Reich... The clearer it became, that an immediate collapse of Fascism couldn't be counted on, the more [German exiles'] writings backed away from open attack and a spectacular exposure" (Pasche, 1993, p. 9).

<44>

Wegner, Ibid., pp. 42-43.

<45>

Sources disagree on the spelling of her name, using both "Baeck" and "Beck".

<46>

All information about Grete Baeck in this section comes from Keith Wilson, "Spotlight and Reel", in an unnamed Omaha, Nebraska, newspaper's Sunday edition, 8.V.42.

Like Baeck, a large number of Scattergood Hostel's Jewish guests came from Berlin- either as native or as adopted Berliners. This makes sense, given that of 499,682 Jews in Germany in 1933, almost one-third (160,564) lived in the German capital (Kirk, 1995, p. 167)

<47>

All information about Boris Jaffe in this section comes from Felicity Barringer, "Flight from Sorrow", Washington Post, 31.V.81.

<48>

Years later, filing an indemnification suit against the German government, Jaffe explained only: "My family stayed in Berlin" (Ibid .

<49>

Ibid.

<50>

Information about Viktor Popper in this section comes from Margaret Hannum, "Our Enemy Aliens", Goucher Alumnae Quarterly, May 1942.

<51>

Pross, 1955, p. 11; for an analysis of the law, its supplements and successors see Mommsen (1966) or Hilberg (1961).

<52>

Fermi, 1968, p. 42.

For an exhaustive list of "Displaced German Scholars" as of 1936, see Kravetz (1993).

<53>

Pross, Ibid., p. 12. See Hartshorne (1937) for exhaustive figures.

<54>

Pross, Ibid., p. 13.

Exiled intellectuals had at least limited help available to them. The Notgemeinschaft deutscher Wissenschaftler im Ausland [Emergency Society of German Scholars Abroad] and Comité International pour le Placement des Intellectuels Réfugiés in Geneva, the Academic Assistance Council [later Society for the Protection of Science and Learning] in London, the League of Nations' High Commission for Refugees in the Haag, Princeton's Institute for Advanced Study and New York's New School of Social Research all helped relocate as many stranded European intellectuals as they could. (See Fermi, Ibid., pp. 61-92 or Davie, Ibid., pp. 109-112 for background information on organizations which assisted exiled intellectuals

<55>

The dismissed professors who wished to enter the U.S. could do so under a specific exemption from immigration quotas in section (4)d of the Immigration Act of 1924. The clause provided that if an applicant possessed the assurance of a post, he [as mostly was the case] could appeal for accelerated admission. Princeton's newly formed Institute for Advanced Study and a few other universities directly hired mathematicians from Nazi Germany; the Rockefeller Foundation and the Emergency Committee for Displaced German Scholars [later Displaced Foreign Scholars] also made use of the provision. By 1939 the number of mathematicians from "Greater Germany" who came to America had reached 51; by the war's end the number totaled "somewhere between 120 and 150" (Reingold in Jackman, Ibid., pp. 205-206). The Emergency Committee alone sponsored 277 individuals- 26 of whom were mathematicians (Ibid., p. 206).

<56>

Sources estimate that chemists constituted the largest disciplinary group among scientists who fled Nazi Germany. They represented, for example, nearly one-fifth of the 424 scientists catagorized by discipline in Davie's landmark study, Refugees in America (1947). In terms of total immigrants to America, chemists also scored high; in the years 1933 to 1937 they numbered 100 and from 1938 to 1950 142. Carroll said: "The population of refugee chemists during the 1930s numbers at least in the hundreds and may exceed a thousand. While some may quibble with this assertion- it is universally conceded that the available statistics are not too reliable- there is no arguing that America's immigrant chemists in general, and her chemist refugees from fascism in particular, have been relative large groups with a relatively small press" (Carroll in Jackman, Ibid., pp. 190-191). At the same time, not all immigration of chemists "can be laid at Hitler's door": except during the war years themselves, Canadian and English chemists "continued to stream in... Clearly, the Nazi phenomenon was but an overlay upon existing patterns" (Ibid., p. 196). Of those from "Greater Germany", eight either had won or later were to win Nobel prizes in chemistry, physiology or medicine (Ibid., p. 199).

<57>

For a list of "non-Aryan" biologists dismissed by or who left the Third Reich, see Deichmann (1995, pp. 36-43).

<58>

See Beyerchen (1977) and Kevles (1978) for reviews of the role of physics and physicists in the Third Reich.

<59>

Whereas those in the sciences relatively easily could transfer their expertise from one culture to another, journalists faced a fundamental hurdle posed by working in countries where foreign tongues were native ones. In the U.S., for example, of 23 refugee journalists in one study, 15 were lingually adaptable enough able to work in their chosen profession; three of them could remain employed due to translation and the rest "were lucky enough to work for German-language newspapers" (Kent, Ibid., pp. 28-34). While in theory exiled journalists in had the possibility of finding a job in America's print media, "the reality looked considerably more discouraging: there was neither a large choice of positions nor could one find many commonalities between journalistic work in Germany and in the U.S." (Hardt, 1979, p. 321).

<60>

Neumann in Crawford, 1953, pp. 11-12.

<61>

Pross portrayed "inner emigration" as "the situation in which the opposition intellectual who felt obligated to participate in public intellectual life continued his intellectual activity in isolation and secret. His previous intellectual and instructional fuction stolen, he had ripped from him his usual way of life. Cut off from earlier contact with students and from exchange with collegues, he was economically restricted and socially avoided. Surrounded by distrust, and seen by the ruling political and intellectual climate inwardly as the worst sort of enemy, the university instructor who lived in inner emigration existed separate from society because of his own protest (which need not be expressed in open resistence) and opposition to the environment. The deeper total dictatorship forced its way into private life through pedagogy and propaganda, the sharper became his isolation. To the degree that it could be mitigated through contact with like-mindeds, the nature of the isolation depended on external forces. Big cities allowed more freedom of movement and encounter than small- or mid-sized towns, which had developed into fortresses of Nazismus... Inner emigration [however] suffocated mental production" (pp. 13-14).

<62>

Crawford, Ibid., p. 12.

<63>

Ibid., p. 15.

<64>

Philosophers by nature must be political creatures. Following the war, America's adopted star theologian Paul Tillich spoke of the sobering humiliation German religous philosophers suffered under the Nazis, for "it happened that, at the end of the road of German philosophy and theology, the figure of Hitler appeared. At the time of our emigration it was not so much his tyranny and brutality which shocked us, but the unimaginably low level of his cultural expressions. We suddenly realized that if Hitler can be produced by German culture, something must be wrong with this culture. This prepared our emigration to [the U.S.] and our openness to the new reality it represents. Neither my friends nor I dared for a long time to pioint to what was great in the Germany of our past. If Hitler was the outcome of what we believed to be the true philosophy and the only theology, both must be false. With this rather desperate conclusion we left Germany. Our eyes were opened; but they still were dull, unable to see the reality.[In such a state] we can to this country" (Tillich in Crawford, Ibid., pp. 142-143).

<65>

Ibid., p. 13.

<66>

Kent, 1953, pp. 11-12.

<67>

Röder in Bade (1992), p. 349.

<68>

Ibid., p. 54.

Strauss noted: "It is not possible to project the American figures onto the entire movement of artists and intellectuals. But at least some intimation of the breadth of the intellectual migration may tentatively be gained from such figures" (Ibid., pp. 54-55).

<69>

Kent, Ibid., p. 14.

Kent noted: "These figures may be somewhat distorted: the statements of the refugees [polled in the study used were] the basis for the classification and, and immigrants on some occassions [exaggerated] the importance of previous positions". He added: "The tendency to "put one's best foot forward' in entering a new country is natural" (Ibid., pp. 14-15).

<70>

Davie, Ibid., p. 36.

<71>

The first four examples of "professional intellectuals" at Scattergood also relate to a problem central to refugee catagorization. While clearly a "professional intellectual", Julius Lichtenstein fled for political reasons rather than because of being professionally marginalized. Besides being politically unacceptable, the Nazis informed Kurt Schaefer that - unbeknownst to him- his grandfather had been a Jew. In addition to being a journalist, Otto Bauer also was a "Religious Socialist". Art teacher Ilse Stahl was also a communist. Between then, the four counted as refugees due to being: 1 in politics, 2 in the arts, 3 intellectuals, 4 a religious dissenter and 5 "non-Aryans". I struggled to decide which catagory should have predominance over the others or which statistics a discerning historian "must" include.

<72>

Fermi, Ibid., p. 373.

<73>

Ibid.

<74>

Ibid., pp. 374-375.

<75>

Beyerchen in Jackman, Ibid., p. 41.

<76>

Two branches of western Christianity dominated German culture at that time, as members of the Evangelisch ("Lutheran" in English) church comprised 63 percent of the population, Catholics 33 percent, Jews just under one percent, non-official Christian sects .05 percent and "other" just over four percent of the total German population (Kirk, Ibid., p. 101). For differing reasons, the Nazis harassed or imprisoned two religous groups in particular, the Jehovah Witnesses and Quakers; see Frei (1987) and Otto (1972) or Bailey (1994).

<77>

Snyder, Ibid., p. 291.

According to van Roon: "As the former state church, [Lutherans] still clinged heavily to national traditions. By a great majority, church leaders celebrated the events of January 1933; a strong connection with the Weimarer Republik had never existed.That was ultimately a legacy of the 1918 Bolshevik Revolution which had destroyed the Kaiserreich and the union between crown and alter" (1994, p. 79). Indicative of the political capital that Hitler enjoyed upon assuming power, even later-nemisis Martin Niemöller became a Nationalsozialist.

<78>

Fischer, 1993, p. 199.

<79>

Studt, 1995, p. 103.

<80>

Actually, the outrage continued. In 1934 Ernst Bergmann issued "Twenty-five Points of the German Religion", which held that the Jewish Old Testament as well as parts of the New Testament were not suitable for a new Germany. Furthermore, Jesus was not Jewish but a Nordic martyr murdered by the Jews- a "warrior" whose death rescued the world from Jewish influence. Adolf Hitler, then, was the new messiah sent to earth to save the world from the Jews- so the swastika should supercede the sword as the symbol of German Christianity- which itself consisted of "German land, German blood, German soul and German art". Equally distasteful was the religious philosophy of Alfred Rosenberg, who espoused Positive Christianity, which he promised would purify the German "race"(Synder, 1976, p. 271 and 291).

<81>

van Roon, Ibid., pp. 81-82.

As Deutsche Christen gained majorities in increasing numbers of Lutheran parishes, many pastors- among them Niemöller and Bonhoeffer- asked themselves if one could belong any longer to "such a church" (Ibid., p. 80). In 1934 circa 7000 Lutheran clergy belonged to Niemöller's Pfarrernotbund, circa 2000 to the Nationalsozialist-linked Deutsche Christen and the remaining 9000 pastors belonged to neither (Kammer and Bartsch, 1992, p. 32).

<82>

Snyder, 1976, p. 292.

<83>

The Catholic Church also fell out of favor with Hitler, who violated the terms of the sham Concordat. His regime arrested monks and nuns on bogus charges of smuggling gold out of the Reich, censored the Church press, banned religious processions, forbade pastoral letters, confiscated schools, closed monastaries and tried priests on faked charges of "immorality" (Fischer, Ibid., pp. 199-202, Kammer, Ibid., pp. 168-169 and Snyder, Ibid., p. 58).

<84>

Hilberg, 1992, pp. 9-10.

<85>

For Adolf Hitler, der Jude and the loathed Internationalist/Pacifist were virtually synonymous- with all three blamed for having "betrayed" the Vaterland in 1918 (Jaeckel, 1969, p. 69). According to the Nazis' Weltanschauung, Jewish culture was a breeding ground for Communism ‡ la Karl Mark, Leon Trotski and Rosa Luxemburg- with even the likes of Sozialdemokrat Walter Rathenau being "proof" of inbred Jewish left-wing biases. To annihilate the Jews, then, would be to purge the world of the "Bolshevist plague". One of the first places to oust the communist "rot"- obviously- was among Germany's civil service.

<86>

The law clearly altered Germany's university-student population. From a total of 127,580 students in summer semester 1932 (15.7% of whom were women), by summer semeter 1934 the number of students fell to 92,622 (13.7% of whome were women) (Kirk, Ibid., p. 107). See Gr_ttner (1995, pp. 101-154) for a thorough outline of student-related statistics at that time. See Davie, Ibid., pp. 114-115 for information on organizations which assisted exiled students.

<87>

The liquidation of Jewish property occurred with breathtaking speed. Of the circa 100,000 Jewish-owned businesses in operation as of January 1933, by spring 1938 60-70% of them no longer existed or had been "Ayranized". The "Aryanization" of retail businesses took place especially quickly: of over 50,000 Jewish shops recorded in 1933, by July 1938 only some 9,000 remained- and 3,637 of those in Berlin (Pehle, Ibid., p. 96). For a description of this process as experienced by Scattergood Hostel guest Sigmund Seligmann, see pp. 70-72 of OHR.

<88>

These measures are outlined in Kirk (Ibid., pp. 159-166), Moser in Pehle (Ibid., pp. 118-131) or Adam (1972, pp. 72-82). Note that Swiss authorities suggested that Nazi officials stamp a large "J" in German Jews' passports (Pfanner in Jackman, Ibid., pp. 237-238).

So thorough were Nazi efforts to marginalize and torment those Jews remaining in their reach, they stipulated- as examples- that doctoral dissertations mark quotes taken from Jewish authors, that blind Jews forfeit wearing a yellow armband designating their blindness "because a German might possibly be caused to be helpful" and that Jews quit using all state-granted titles- with the exception, oddly, of academic ones (Moser in Pehle, Ibid., pp.127-129).

<89>

In autumn 1935 Hitler defined the legal status of Jews (including non-practicing "non-Aryans" and "mix-bloodeds"); the so-called Nrnberg Laws on Citizenship and Race embodied his efforts. (Among others see Adam, Adler, Gilbert, Hilberg or Jochmann

<90>

Pehle, Ibid., pp. 74-75. For an outline of the political course of events from 7 to 10 November, see pp. 76-80; for a description of the event's planning and execution, see pp. 83-88; see Adler (1974, pp. 36-41) for an outline of the Nazis' close administration of its "spontaneity".

<91>

Called Reichskristallnacht in German ("Imperial Night of Broken Glass"), the event bears a quasi-poetic name which- like the event itself- remains tainted with hate. The same post-war generation of Germans which began questioning their elders' participation in Nationalsozialist culture, daily life and crimes (Bessel, Ibid., p. 69) also reconsidered the name which the Nazis had given this pogrom- said to romanticize the sight of shards of glass resulting from raids on Jewish property- and found it unacceptable. I use "Kristallnacht " because in the U.S. and Britain it remains the common term of reference to this incident.

<92>

Benz, 1993, p. 499.

<93>

Burleigh and Wippermann, 1991, p. 89; Snyder, 1976, p. 201. Moser held that circa 7,500 Jewish-owned shops and business were damaged (in Pehle, 1988, p. 121).

It was not the Nazis' first planned "spontaneous" anti-Jewish action. The boycott of Jewish businesses on 1 April 1933- according to Goebbels "an imposing spectacle" (Gilbert, Ibid., p. 35)- served as a "first example of the Nationalsozialist orchestration of such actions. The party core reserved enough free space in order to allow pent-up aggressions to be released and the give the impression of spontanity.At the same time, the Jews' fanatic enemies were to get the signal, that the new regime was determinedly pursuing its racial-political goals" (Jochmann, 1991, p. 240).

<94>

The numbers of Jews fleeing the Altreich (Germany before Austria's annexation) mirror changing realizations of peril. In 1933 Germany had 499,682 Jews as registered in the census by religion; they were 0.8% of the population (Kirk, Ibid., 167). One-fifth of Germany's Jewish population was foreign-born (Ibid., p. 168). By 1935 110,000 Jews had left the Reich- of which supposedly 10,000 returned (Tutas, Ibid., p. 105). At the beginning of 1938 from 350,000 to 365,000 Jews remained; they were in 1,400 communities, of which more than 730 consisted of "emergency communities" in the process of liquidation. Over 65% of Germany's Jews at that time lived in seven of the country's largest cities- with 140,000 (circa 40%) living in Berlin alone (Barkai in Pehle, Ibid., p. 96). A large wave of flight followed Kristallnacht: 115,000 Altreich Jews fled from 1938 to 1939 (Kwiet in Pehle,Ibid., p. 139). Of the 164,000 Jews who remained as of July 1941, half were over 50 years old (one-third of those over 60) and 20,669 under 18; women outnumbered men by 20% (Ibid., pp. 139-140). Noticable discrepancies between the various sources reflect conflicting statistics made at the time- for example, concerning disagreement whether Germans were "Jewish" by religion or by roots. If one adds the number of non-practicing/non-aligned "non-Aryans" the number of Germans affected by the Nazis' persecution of Jews approached 875,000 (Strauss in Jackman, Ibid., p. 47).

<95>

Donald Grant, "Like Discovering a New World: Once Gassed by the Doughboys, Nazi Refugee Befriended Here", DMR, 28.I.40.

<96>

For a diverse documentation of the Nazis' economic exploitation of German Jewry, see Poliakov and Wulf (1983), chapter 1: "Raub und Plnderung" (pp. 7-80).

<97>

Grete Rosenzweig, Unpublished memoirs, "My Life Told for My Grandchildren", 1974.

<98>

Grete Rosenzweig was not alone in feeling fully "German" as a Jew living in Germany. Ilse Davidsohn Stanley- daughter of the chief kantor of Berlin's Fasanenstraße temple- once said that her people seemed rooted "endlessly deep in German soil, language, art and German thinking" and that they felt so German that they considered themselves to be like the legendary oak "and one couldn't simply say to a German oak, "As of today you are no longer a German oak! Pull your roots out of the earth and go away!'" (Stanley, 1964, p. 83).

<99>

In her account of events Grete cites the date as having been 8 November, which I initially assumed was a mistake of memory. Upon asking her daughter for confirmation, however, she replied: "My recollection is that Nov. 7, 8, and 9 were anxiety-ridden nights and that the Nazis in Kassel were ahead by one night of Kristallnacht. We had a child and staff member from the orphanage with us one night. The next night they went back to the orphanage because my parents were uneasy. That was the night the synagogue was set on fire (Nov. 8, I believe). The attack on our apartment was Nov. 9th... Since my birthday is Nov. 12, and I was to get a bike then for my 13th birthday we did nothing to celebrate..." (Note to MLT, fall 1995).

<100>

Grete's mother, Hedwig Katz Kaufmann, perished in Theresienstadt in 1943.

<101>

Information about the Seligmanns in this section comes from Sigmund [Seligmann] Seaman's unpublished account titled "Verfolgungsvorgang", 5.VI.57.

<102>

For a detailed account of a similar experience, see Ganz' In Deutschland unerwnchst in Schwarz (1964), p. 28-32.

<103>

The later that Jews fled the Third Reich, the more wealth they lost. On average, Jews who left in 1933 lost a surmountable 23% of their wealth (Ginzel, 1993, p. 222). In late 1934 emigrants forfitted on average 60% of their property; in 1939, 96% (Kwiet in Pehle, Ibid., p. 135). From fiscal year 1938 through fiscal year 1940 alone, the Nazi regime gathered 1,126,612,496 RM from departing Jews in the form of customs duties (Hilberg, 1961, p. 101). See Adam (Ibid.,pp.172-177) to review of the explusion of Jews from Germany's economy or Barkai (1995)for an overview of how appropriation of Jewish property served the Nazis' economic plan.

<104>

By 1940 the Nazi regime had collected circa 900 million Reichsmarks through the so-called Fluchtsteuer- or "flight tax" (Kwiet in Pehle, Ibid., p. 135).

<105>

He was Robert Balderston, who volunteered after the first world war to help feed European children and after Hitler seized power traveled to Germany to try to assist victims of Nazism. He also was on hand in Antwerp in June 1939 when the ill-fated refugees on the Saint Louis returned from its unplanned tour of the New World's closed ports (Nawyn, Ibid, p. 345).

<106>

The difficulties Seligmann faced in securing visas to America were typical of those encountered by European refugees of that period. According to Benz, "the most important and desired countries of exile were Palestine and the USA. For different reasons, it was difficult to reach them". Palestine was a British mandate and the Zionists who wanted to immigrate were only admitted "in minimal numbers according to a complicated quota system". Immigration quotas also constituted for many an insurmountable barrier to the U.S. Until 1939, the yearly quota was not once fully utilized. Causes were both currency regulation in Germany as well as the restrictive policies of the American immigration officials. After the pogrom of November 1938 the restrictions indeed were loosened, "but for many it was too late. If at first it was the fear to be burdened with impoverished Jews from Central Europe, with the outbreak of war came the additional fear of Nazi spies who could have trickled in in the stream of refugees. In any case, before permission to immigrate to the USA could be had, bureaucratic hurdles of considerable dimensions had to be overcome. Despite that, the United States was far and above the most important country of exile, in which over 130,000 German and Austrian Jews found refuge" (Benz, 1994, pp. 38-39). According to Daniels, between 1933 and 1940 the U.S. accepted 100,987 German immigrants; "had all the German quota spaces [including those of Austria] been filled, the total would have been 211,895" (Daniels in Jackmann, Ibid., p. 66).

<107>

Seligmann, Ibid.

<108>

After Sigmund's departure his oldest sister, Erna, was arrested inFreiburg-im-Breisgau, deported to Gurs concentration camp in southern France and later sent to a death camp in "the East", where she perished. Similarly his father, Salomon, also of Freiburg, met an "unnatural end in Poland"; word of his fate came via a phoney death certificate sent to Sigmund's wife Friedel- along with a bill for the "ensuing costs"!

<109>

All information about the Weilers in this section comes from anonymous article "Forced to Flee Germany-3 Refugees Travel 18,000 Miles", DMR, 8.IX.40.

<110>

See Bracher et al, 1983, pp. 529-532.

<111>

Already in a Reichstag speech on 30 January 1939, Hitler promised to treat the Jews "with all terrible consequences" in case of war in Europe (Jochmann, Ibid., p. 256).

<112>

Wasserstein in Hirschfeld, 1984, p. 69.

<113>

According to Kirk, the exact percentage of all European Jews murdered during the Nazi period was 68 percent (Ibid., p. 172).

<114>

Fleeing to America, though, did not mean an end to anti-Semitism. According to Laura Fermi, the wife of an exiled Italian physicist, while Jews were persecuted by European dictatorships, "in democratic America they were subjected to a much subtler form of anti-Semitism, a form which can be summed up in the word "restricted'. European Jews did not know this word and learned it with great shock. In Europe their lives had been in danger; America threatened their self-respect. In most European countries the blame for the excesses against the Jews could be put on a few. In America the majority was responsible, though for a much lesser sin" (Fermi, Ibid., p. 16).

<115>

Information about Magdalene Salmon comes from "The Defeat of Warsaw", SMNB, 17.IX.41.

<116>

Information about Stanislav Braun in this section comes from George Shane, "Scattergood Refugees Can Tell Much: French Army Surprised Pole". DMR, late 1942.

<117>

The will to settle Jews in Palestine did not equate the ability. See Diner in Blasius (1994, pp. 138-160) for an in-depth review of measures taken to restrict Jewish immigration.

<118>

Except where noted, information in this section comes from Bentwich (1956). Norman Bentwich served as Attorney General of the Mandate Government in Eretz Israel from 1920 to 1931. From 1931 to 1951 he taught as Professor of International Relations at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and from 1933 to 1936 acted as Director of the League of Nations Commission for Jewish Refugees from Germany (Patkin, 1979. p 15).

<119>

German Jewish leaders named their organization the Reichsvertretung der deutschen Juden, but had to rename it the Reichsvertretung der Juden in Deutschland as dictated by the Nrnberg Laws enacted in autumn 1935 (Blasius and Diner, Ibid., p. 125).

<120>

Bentwich, 1956, p. 86.

<121>

See Adler (1974, pp. 3-5) on Nazi ambivalence regarding Jewish emigration.

<122>

Ibid., p 87.

<123>

Ibid., p. 88.

<124>

Ibid., p 89.

<125>

Ibid., p. 91.

<126>

Ibid.

<127>

Another enterprise in Holland, the Vereeniging Tot Vakopleiding Van Palestine Pioneers placed trainees with Dutch farmers and, being near the German frontier, it "rescued many who had to leave Germany suddenly because of [Gestapo] persecution...and were often unable to receive travel permits". Reuben Cohen and his wife were "the heart and soul" of that movement: "They devoted themselves to the well-being of the groups whom they placed, and saved many hundreds from a bitter fate, but they could not save themselves. When the Germans invaded Holland, they died in a concentration camp" (Ibid, p. 90).

<128>

According to Bentwich, "the Jewish community in Zagreb were responsible for that undertaking" (Ibid., pp. 90-91).

<129>

Although records do not reveal if lessons were offered at the settlement- for example in French or agriculture- or if other efforts were made to assimilate the refugees, it is included here because 1 the refugees mostly intended to settle in the area and 2 as shown by their contact with locals, the refugees were willing to adapt at least partially to the local culture.

<130>

This account comes from Lawrence Darton's unpublished report, "Friends Committee on Refugee Affairs" (found at Friends Library, Friends House, London), pp. 21-22.

<131>

Ibid.

<132>

This state of affairs continued until almost the end of the war when- just as the Germans were leaving France- the man was deported to Germany and later Russia. Nothing was heard of him till some three years later. According to the report from which this account is taken, "after many efforts to secure his return, he was repatriated to France in 1948 and went back to the school, which his wife had carried on in his absence". Shortly afterwards the man became a Quaker and in 1949 the donor transferred the property to him and his family.

<133>

The material in this section comes from Darton, Ibid., pp. 97-101.

<134>

Bentwich, 1956, p. 25; see Blasius and Diner, Ibid., p. 141.

<135>

See Tydor, 1990.

For desciptions of Kindertransporte from occupied-Germany accompanied by future Scattergood Hostel guests, see pp. 60-63 in OHR.

<136>

Michael Smith. "'hat the Lady Did' Gives Hope for the Future". Education Magazine, 2.XII.94.

<137>

Ibid.

<138>

Alan Major. "Bunce Court, Anna Essinger and Her New Herrlingen School, Otterden- Parts One, Two and Three". Bygone Kent 10 #8-10 (1989).

In Part One, Major explains that much of the financial support for Essinger's move to England came from well-heeled friends in the aristocracy and British Quakers (p. 550).

<139>

The New Herrlingen School possessed its own mini-farm, with the children mostly in charge of its "large garden and two greenhouses with numerous frames, all with heating", five hundred hens, some pigs and hives of bees. "The pigs were fed on kitchen waste and [one group of pupils], who were entirely responsible for them, ran an old motor-car on the proceeds from the sale of the piglets" (Ibid., p. 627).

<140>

Ibid., p. 551.

<141>

This is no random claim, but one backed by Major's research. In October 1937, several inspectors from the government's Board of Education visited the school for three days and filed a subsequent report. Their comments are revealing, as they were "amazed at what could be achieved in teaching with limited facilities and convinced it was the personality, enthusiasm and interest of teachers rather than their teaching "apparatus' that made the school work competently". At the time of the inspection, 68 pupils attended the school- 41 boys and 27 girls, with 65 being boarders and 12 being English. From 1933 to 1937, 26 children left the school for other countries- mostly the U.S. or Palestine- but for other schools in Britain, too. The inspectors also noted "the considerable trouble Anna went to so that those pupils wanting to do so could have further training for a chosen career". By the school's closure pupils had entered "a wide range of careers and during the war some had joined the Services or did war work in Britain" (pp. 628-629). Besides reviewing educational activities, the inspectors reported that "the discipline being that of a large family rather than that of an institution, the pupils go about the House freely and use as day rooms not only the classrooms and library, but also the rooms of the staff, including the Head Mistress's own sitting room" (p. 630).

<142>

Ibid., p. 550.

<143>

Ibid., p. 553.

<144>

Ibid., p. 625.

<145>

Ibid., pp. 625-627.

<146>

Ibid., p. 627.

<147>

According to Major, "this was seemingly a short-sighted and needless act as none of the staff or pupils, having left Germany in such unhappy circumstances, had the slightest allegiance to Nazi Germany or would do anything against the interests of their new-found home, England. Some of the staff and older boys were despatched for internment to Australia, where they were housed in camps for a time, living in conditions little better than the Nazi concentration camps they had avoided by leaving Germany, a fact that created a rightful bitterness for years afterwards over such treatment. The schoolboys from Bunce Court, however, were soon released on arrival in Australia as they were below the age of 18. There was no government provision for their return to England and some had extraordinary adventures before arriving in the USA or joining the British army!" (p. 654).

<148>

Ibid., p. 655.

In 1943 Essinger wrote: "I have been justified again and again in my belief that the "human element' is much more important in successful teaching than any amount of technical equipment. It has been one of the great joys...to see how with the help of a good and co-operative staff much has been made of little. While it was not always easy to help uprooted children over their difficulties, the knowledge that the School enabled them to grow up decently has encouraged me to continue this work" (Unprinted book titled "Bunce Court School, 1933-1943", p.14, found in London's Weiner Library).

<149>

Helga [Steinhardt] Brown. "The Cedar Boys", unpublished narrative report dated 1989, p. 5 (located in London's Weiner Library).

<150>

See Wetzel in Benz and Benz (1993, pp. 92-102) for a review of conditions faced by Jewish pupils in Nazi Germany.

<151>

"Julius Flersheim...never had a family himself, but wanted his money to [set] up of a Jewish orphanage for boys, who would be provided with a stable background and religious upbringing... In the same city...some years later a Home with similar ideals was set up on the death of Mr. Ignatz Sichel. Both men stipulated that the boys should attend the Philantropin as day pupils and that children of high intelligence should be admitted, so that they could develop their potential to the full and gain the same advantages as boys from a [stable] background. In 1919 it was felt that an amalgamation of the two orphanages would be advantageous. Ten years later an ex-pupil who had emigrated and settled in London where he accumulated some wealth, very generously contributed sufficient funds for the setting up of a...Home on the outskirts of the city... The building was one of the most modern in the city and overlooked the Taunus mountains. It was surrounded by a large play area and gardens and every new boy planted a tree in his first week. The Home consisted of small dormitories, study areas, workshops for carpentry and metal work, hobby rooms and the most up to date bathrooms, launderettes, kitchens, offices and staff quarters" (Ibid., p. 9).

<152>

Helga [Steinhardt] Brown noted the boys "could not speak the language" (p.11).

<153>

Ibid., p. 7.

<154>

According to Brown, "between 1933 and 1939 the nature of the Home changed. Although some of the children were still from one-parent families, the majority were sent by their parents to continue their education at the Philantropin because the schools in their home towns and villages refused to admit them. Numbers at the Home increased dramatically. Where in 1927 there had been fourteen boys, by 1938 there were thirty-two. The money which had been donated by the founders had long been insufficient for the upkeep of the Home and the Board of Governors had to devote much time to pleading for financial assistance" (p.10).

<155>

In March 1939 Julius Floerschim and his wife took over the Home. Brown wrote: "Sadly the family and the children together with the Governess were deported...and perished".

The issue of the degree to which Jews not in Nazi-occupied Europe assisted those who were warrants special attention, as after the war international Jewish as well as non-Jewish opinion differed considerably- and at times, angrily. Many revisionists (see Bauer, 1981; FFeingold, 1985; Lookstein, 1985; Morse, 1967; Saperstein, 1987 and Trunk, 1979) have argued

that the latter group of Jews did too little- that they failed to "shake heaven and earth, echoing the agony of their doomed brothers". There were notable exceptions- such as the Rothschilds, alluded to here- who gave time and money and emotional capital to help fellow Jews and often non-Jews escape the Nazi threat. The majority, however, rarely took personal action. Of those in America, Breitman and Kraut have offered an apologetic explanation for their behavior: "In spite of the accusation that not enough was done and the assumption that if more had been done many Jews who died might have been saved, there is abundant evidence to suggest that, during the 1930s, American Jews did their best, using every means at their disposal, to provide European Jews with a haven. During this critical period, when the Nazi Final Solution was not yet a reality, American Jewish leaders tried private entreaties, mass meetings, public protests, and political pressure both formal and informal to recast American immigration policies and procedures so that European Jews might enter the United States. They met with staunch opposition from the State Department, the Congress, and the public at large. Even President Roosevelt, though generally sympathetic and sometimes helpful, refused to support an assault on the quota system. Some of the opposition was anti-Semitic, but most of it was grounded on the widely held belief that restrictionism was in the national interest, especially in light of the depression" (Breitman and Kraut, 1987, p. 81).

<156>

Brown, Ibid., p. 13.

<157>

Ibid., p. 14.

<158>

Ibid.

<159>

Ibid., p. 15.

<160>

Ibid.

<161>

Brown noted that the future was bright for the boys personally. Of their families: "Communications with parents and relatives in Germany had ceased after 1941 and although the full implication of the Holocaust was not realised, there was little hope that the children would be reunited with their parents. In 1945 it was confirmed that fourteen of them had lost their nearest relatives, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters in concentration camps" (p. 16).

<162>

Jon Nordheimer. "Reunion:15 Jews Gather at Their Wartime Refuge in Britain". International Herald Tribune. 30-31.VII.83.

Nordheimer quoted one man at the reunion, Rolf Decker, who said: "Each one of us eventually had to face up to the question of why we survived, why we were the fortune ones".

<163>

Otto, 1972, p. 304.

According to Brenda [Friedrich] Bailey- daughter of important figures in the German Yearly Meeting of Friends before, during and after the Hitler regime- "the idea had come from Herta Kraus, a German Friend, who felt that people discharged from concentration camps or who had suffered in other ways could be helped to regain their strength and morale through a retreat with understanding English and German Quaker hosts" (1994, p. 59).

See Sandvoß (1994, pp. 277-281) for a description of German Quaker aid or resistance.

<164>

Howard, 1941, p. 50.

<165>

Otto, Ibid., p. 304.

<166>

Ibid.

<167>

Ibid., pp. 48-49.

<168>

Ibid., p. 304.

<169>

Darton, Ibid., p. 7.

According to Howard, "one was...all the time conscious of skating on very thin ice, and one never knew when one was being watched, so that an incautious word, or a name too loudly spoken, might bring all our work into danger, innocent though it was" (p. 49).

<170>

Ibid., pp. 50-52.

Howard noted: "Let it not be supposed that all our guests were saints or heroes. We cast our net very wide and sometimes caught queer fish! There was an endless call on the tact and understanding of each House Mother, but it was all abundantly worthwhile" (p. 58). Echoing a similar sentiment issued two years later at Scattergood, a former Rest Home guest wrote to her in 1941, referring to that refuge as an "island of kindness amid a storm of wickedness" (p.48).

<171>

Howard explained that the Rest Home "was later transferred...to a more accessible province of Germany, so that we could lessen the need for very long and costly travel. We always paid the fares for our guests where this was needful" (Ibid., p. 48).

<172>

Bailey, Ibid., p. 59.

<173>

Howard, Ibid., p. 58.

<174>

Darton, Ibid., p. 78 and Greenwood, 1975, p. 262.

<175>

Howard, Ibid., p. 48.

<176>

Unsigned promotion letter entitled "Aberdeen Camp", 25.V.38.

An AFSC proposal held that "the project is intended to provide a congenial atmosphere in which residents may find opportunities for mutual exploration of American and German ways of thinking and living- resulting in a better understanding of each other's cultures".

<177>

Press Release, "INTERNATIONAL SERVICE HOSTEL- Aberdeen, West Park, N.Y.", 3.VI.38.

Besides young Americans, the staff also included Katrin, mother of Erhard Winter [both having been given pseudonyms upon request]; a German social worker, she served as Aberdeen Camp's "chief counsellor" and he sojourned at Scattergood Hostel.

<178>

Promotion Letter, 1938, p. 2.

<179>

Ibid.

<180>

Press Release, 1938, p. 2.

<181>

Arthur Charles, Unpublished "Report on Aberdeen Camp", 23.VIII.38, p. 1.

<182>

As explained in an anonymous report, the variety of people greatly enriched the camp: "The size of [the group] seemed satisfactory. There were not too many to prevent close acquaintance being formed with everyone, and yet it was large enough to offer each one opportunity to find congenial companions and some variety of acquaintance. The presence of children, of youths, and of mature men and women seemed to contribute a wholesome family atmosphere approximating that of a home. Boys and girls of the upper teenage not only enjoyed each other's companionship, but were a source of satisfaction and pleasure rather than of worry to their concerned elders. The age variety as well as its size made the group feel that they were members of large family rather than of an institution"(Unprinted report titled "Suggestions").

<183>

Arthur Charles, Unpublished "Report on Aberdeen Camp", 23.VIII.38., p. 1.

<184>

Ibid., p. 2.

<185>

An AFSC "Memorandum Concerning the German Refugee Project in Cuba" (4.V.39 noted: "As of March 20, 1939, there were about 4,000 refugees in Cuba, of whom 600 were on relief. Naturally there is a wide range of age and occupation. No refugees are allowed employment except when self-employed in farming, trade, or industry. Very few have been able to start such enterprises except boarding houses. Practically all refugees are centered in a slum district in Havana due in some measure to a housing shortage outside Havana. Deterioration of morale is rapid and extremely serious".

<186>

Gulley, 1973, p. 76.

<187>

Ibid.

Gulley related: "the U.S. Consul in Havana came to observe our work and became quite interested and proved to be a good friend. These refugees who expected to enter the U.S. had to take their turn as their assigned number came up to the head of the list. However, there was a rule to the effect that where there was a married couple signed up with different numbers they were allowed to enter together if the husband's number came up first but not if the wife's came up first. We had just such a case. They, of course, were anxious to go. [The Consul] got out the book of regulations and said, "I'll tell you what the book says, now let's see how we can get around it.' He then found that in certain "hardship' cases, the Consul was permitted to use his judgment, and in this case he did so" (p. 77). One couple who came to Cuba to await necessary documents to enter the U.S. consisted of Otto and Rosa Bauer of Vienna. In their case they sought re-entry, as they already had spent five months at Scattergood Hostel (see p. 150-OHR).

<188>

Ibid.

According to Rosa Scheider- a Czech woman who later became a Scattergood Hostel resident- "Families were not accepted, only young men, who had to be retrained and given a home. But families were always welcome guests and so the Finca Paso Seco became a beloved goal for Sunday trips. I shall never forget these Meetings in the cool shadow of the porch, with its view of the tropical park around the building... After the Meeting we used to lie down under the palms behind the building and enjoy a peaceful day" (Rosa Scheider, "Cuban Experiences", SMNB, 17.XII.40 .

<189>

AFSC Memorandum, 4.V.39.

<190>

Ibid., p. 78.

<191>

Signing his name as "Frank Rotter", three days after the "music-evening" he penned a letter to "Mr. Society of Friends of Philadelphia" in which he wanted to offer thanks "for the founding of such a wonderful working-community. Until now these people wandered about in the small streets of Habana, without any definite goal and plan. Now, given the chance to work, it is made possible for them to gain practical knowledge of many business-branches. And hence this happens without any constraint, the psychological result is unmeasurable. With joy and devotion they take part in every thing; how they enjoy when the plants set by themselves grow up in the field ploughed by themselves, how they enjoy joining in building usefull [sic] things in the carpenter-shop, how happy we were, when the car completely rebuilt by ourselves was running. Everyone gets to know the sense of duty, and the working together in community. He gets acquainted with the soul, thoughts and the idea of Quakerism. If I were to say everything concerning the already noticeable influence upon the souls of the people living here, my report would fill up too much space [as] we all who have the luck to be here, have the firm believe [sic], based upon the influence of the Finca-life, that we, in our new homeland, living in a new social order, shall become good, real and efficacious American citizen [sic]. I express my very deep thanks" (Franz Rotter, Open Letter, 6.XI.39).

<192>

Translated article, "Music-evening on the Finca", Jdische Rundschau, 3.XI.39.

<193>

In the first days of Finca Paso Seco's existence, the community "enjoyed frequent calls from the police [who were] all afraid we were hiding refugees or starting a little counter-revolution. Laborers had to be drafted as interpreters to explain how harmless [the refugees] were, and every last man had to go to the county seat to report in person before all fears were allayed!" (Eleanor Slater, Unpublished Essay entitled "The Quaker Star in Cuba", 5.IX.39 .

<194>

Ibid., pp. 77-78.

Gulley later lamented: "Our year in Cuba passed all too quickly, for we were extremely busy. Supervising the program on our refugee farm, [nurturing] contacts with the U.S. Consulate to help clear up troubled cases, dealing with Cuban officials [or] business men, supplying food for our group, meeting visitors and many other things kept us on the go" (p. 78).

<195>

Undated, unsigned broadsheet, "Quaker Hill as a Hostel for Refugees".

<196>

Isaac Woodward, Letter to John Rich, 20.XI.40.

<197>

The site consisted of the main house, a shop, a new CPS-built frame dormitory and an assembly building, situation on 25 acres "of beautiful grounds and gardens [which] add to its charm and usefulness" (Isaac Woodward and Millard Markle, Report titled "Quaker Hill: A Friends Service Center", 1.I.42 .

<198>

Murry Kenworthy and Frances Doan Streightoff, Report titled "Meeting of the Friends Peace Camp Project, held at Richmond, Ind., March 14, 1940".

<199>

Mary Lane Charles, Undated report titled "The Educational Program at Quaker Hill".

<200>

Ibid.

<201>

"Quaker Hostels", a previously translated article from Der Aufbau, 21.II.41.

<202>

Quaker Hill's monthly newsletter, The Quaker Hill Post, August 1942.

<203>

Isaac Woodward and Millard Markle, Report titled "Quaker Hill: A Friends Service Center", 1.I.42.

<204>

A sketch of Fort Ontario in Oswego, New York, is included to illustrate what sort of reception refugees from Nazi Europe might have encountered upon leaving their homes. It is beyond the scope of this paper, however, to minutely explain the history behind the camp's formation, the climate of anti-Semitism which prevailed in the United States at that time and its influence on determining the fate of Jewish refugees, or the complicated final dissolution of the camp. Whole books could be and have been written on these points- the best of which are Ruth Gruber's Haven and Sharon Lowenstein's Token Refugee (see Selected Titles); other resources also exist which complete this story. That I have chosen to offer only a summary touches upon an important point: in the course of my work, numerous others have wanted to co-opt this project for their own purposes. An American graduate student doing research at the Oxford Centre for Postgraduate Hebrew Studies who critiqed what I had written till the point of our meeting- for one- insisted I include in-depth summaries of the U.S. State Department's criminal behavior during that era in blocking as many Jewish refugees from entering the U.S. as possible. While worthy of scholarship, that subchapter of the Third Reich/World War II saga lies beyond the goals of this paper on WWII-era European refugees' formation of American identities. In a similar way my Doktorvater would have been glad to have had more reference to the Holocaust per se; while fully valid, such an undertaking would have led me far from the central issue at hand: through what processes were "New Americans" created?

Although the refugees at Oswego basically were interned, in contrast to those who met similar fates in Britain once war erupted, they chose to enter the camp voluntarily; also, the federal and local governmental bodies deliberately tried to assist the refugees to either integrate or assimilate with the existing national culture even before they were allowed into it.

<205>

Patkin, 1979, p. 11.

<206>

Bentwich, 1956, p. 102.

<207>

The total cost for each individual- including sixpence pocket money- was less than ten shillings a week. The total cost of the camp to the Jewish community for the eighteen months of its existence was £100,000. For that sum "5,000 men, and in many cases their families, were saved" (Ibid., p. 103).

<208>

Ibid.

<209>

According to Bentwich, "It was unwittingly a useful preparation for the work before them that the men made concrete roads in the camps, laid pipes, constructed water towers, built huts and wash-houses, and installed electric light and a drainage system. They were encouraged to work by slogans displayed in the huts, as, for example: "England expects everyman to do his duty. You are not Englishmen, but you should do your duty.' It was another feature that the policing was done by the inmates. The experience in the camp with its communal life was also a valuable transition for the Army discipline to come" (Ibid., p. 28).

<210>

Ibid., pp. 27-28.

Later in life Hans Hammerstein commented that "the camp was a magnanimous and grand contribution to the solution of the refugee problem". It could accommodate about 3,500 men and he was "sure that very large sums of money were collected in England, America and elsewhere to feed, clothe and house us. I wonder if we realized this at the time and were grateful for it. Nor do I know if any of us had previously ever done enough for our Jewish brethren anywhere" (Patkin, 1979, p. 16).

<211>

Bentwich, Ibid., p. 28.

<212>

Ibid., pp. 28-29.

Not everyone found the camp "brimming with good will". Hans Hammerstein said: "Because the inmates of the Kitchener Camp were nearly all Jews, one would rightly have expected some kind of united Jewish spirit' to develop amongst the thousands of refugees, to enable them to comfort each other and ease the burden of common misery. But the contrary was the case. It started with he camp authorities, who did not call it a Jewish refugee camp' but a camp for refugees from Nazi oppression'. True, there were a dozen or so non-Jews and some baptised Jews, but their fate under the Nazis was the same as that of Jews who were not baptised. The animosity between different groups and sects was also strong and made the situation irritable and offensive" (Patkin, 1979, p. 13).

<213>

Bentwich, Ibid., p. 29.

<214>

Ibid., pp. 29-30.

<215>

Ibid., p. 30.

Refugees from the Third Reich living in Britain were classified according to three categories. "A" category comprised of those about whom there were "serious doubts" and numbered about 600; such individuals were interned. "B" category numbered about 7,000 and were restricted in their movement. "C" category numbered about 67,000 and enjoyed complete freedom of movement; approximately 55,000 "C" aliens were classified as "refugees from Nazi oppression". According to Patkin: "Most of the aliens classified by 120 [government] tribunals operating in Britain were Jews. Criticism of various tribunals' decisions grew in intensity, as some well-known anti-Nazis were included in "A' and "B' categories. Following numerous protests, a review of the classifications was ordered by the Home Office, but this did not begin until May 1940" (p. 13).

<216>

For information about the organization of and daily life at Kitchener Camp, see Irwin Blumenkranz' narrative [pp. 53-55]; for an account of internment on the Isle of Man, see Martin Kobylinski's narrative [pp.55-56]- both in Out of Hitler's Reach. Regarding both sites and how they mirrored the British government's refugee policy, see Sherman (1973).

Once hostilities broke out between Nazi Germany and the Allies, the nature of British refugee camps changed completely- literally overnight. From the Kristallnachtpogrom of November 1938 till September 1939, the British government opened a door to those fleeing the Third Reich. Even during the so-called Phoney War, refugees as well as Nazi supporters stranded in England due to war's outbreak were allowed free movement. As the Wehrmacht rolled over the Lowland Countries in May 1940, however, the nation's mood shifted to one of pronounced alarm. When France swiftly fell to Hitler's onslaught and Britain's troops evacuated the Continent via Dunkerque, the Brits panicked. Winston Churchill growled "Collar the lot!". Public sentiment echoed his and within days first German and Austrian men between the ages of 16 and 60, then women and even children found themselves subjected to arrest, questioning and imprisonment- this time not at the hands of a totalitarian dictatorship but a "liberal democracy". Even if Whitehall meant most of those interned no harm, thousands of lives ground to a halt and innocent individuals were denied freedom (Gillman, 1980). It isn't true, as some claim, that Britain's internment or deportation of 27,000 (Kushner, 1993) "enemy alien" was "harmless enough". Hundreds of the imprisoned lost their lives in the process of deportation. Britain sent over 7,000 (Burletson, 1993) to the "dominions": the Arandora Star was torpedoed enroute to Canada, with the loss of some 1,200 lives; on the Australia-bound Dunera, 2,542 refugees as well as imprisoned Nazis (Patkin, 1979) were subjected to months of poor food, beatings and robbing at the hands of the soldiers appointed to guard them. Upon arriving in Australia, many watched in horror as military personnel rifled through their luggage and demanded their jewelry, money and other "liquid assets".

<217>

For Jews the National Origins Quota System proved to be catastrophic in its failure to distinguish between immigrants and refugees- "people with time and resources to proceed according to customary bureaucratic practice and persecuted people thrust into dire circumstances". An amendment proposed in 1921 would have excepted victims of religious persecution from quotas, but it received little support and was not reintroduced as "Liberals were hesitant to made demands that would provoke restrictionists" (Lowenstein, 1986, p. 3).

<218>

Feingold, 1980, p. 150.

Assumptions that refugees from Nazism equated Jews relied on false premises: "The widespread notion that the great majority of the refugees were Jewish allowed anti-Semitic restrictionist groups to disregard the existence of non-Jewish refugees", despite the fact that Christians constituted some thirty percent of the refugees who reached America (Haim Genizi. "American Interfaith Cooperation on Behalf of Refugees from Nazism, 1933-1945". American Jewish History 70#3 [1981], p. 352).

<219>

If the U.S. government insisted on being derelict in rescuing European refugees, a number of private relief organizations determined to undertake the mission. Given strapped staff and limited funds, however, they had to perform diplomatic triage. Some found it a most distasteful assignment, for among thousands of artists or intellectuals gathered in havens like Marseilles, they were instructed to "rescue the top two percent, or five percent, or whatever; the object was to pick the best ones. One gets the awlful picture of somebody saying: "Bring me your folder of art, and if I think it's good, we can save your life'" (Jackman, Ibid., p. 18).

<220>

Lowenstein, Ibid., pp. 6-7; see Wyman (1968, 1984).

According to Lowenstein, "total quota utilization during the Nazi years ranged from 5.3 percent in 1933, when Jewish arrivals numbered 2300, to 40.6 percent in 1939, when Jewish immigration reached 43,000". The number of Jewish immigrants dropped after America entered the war and in 1944 again totaled 2300. Except for those from Germany and Austria, most Jewish refugees came from countries assigned the smallest quotas- and even those quotas remained 60 percent unfilled. By 1943, when more than 4,500,000 Jews had been killed or transformed into refugees, approximately 811,000 had found refuge. However, many were in European states later occupied by the Nazis: "one hundred ninety thousand, 23.5 percent, obtained temporary or permanent admission to the United States"(p.7).

<221>

Polls during the period mirrored the pervasive anti-Semitic feeling in the U.S. In 1937 and 1938 one-third to one-half of those polled thought that Jews had too much money, power or influence in Germany and the U.S. In fact, ten percent claimed Jews were fully responsible for Nazi persecution and nearly half thought Jews to be partially responsible (Cantril, 1951, pp. 381-83). A survey in December 1943 found that one-third of those asked thought that FDR had appointed "too many" Jews to government posts (Lowenstein, Ibid., p. 383).

<222>

The announcement specified that the refugees would remain at Fort Ontario "under appropriate security restrictions...for the duration of the war" and that at the war's end they would be "returned to their homelands" (Marks, 1946, p 1). Marks held: "Had the [camp] been located in Africa, or even in the Virgin Islands...these two conditions could probably have been carried out with little question". The shelter, however, was located within the U.S., where some of the refuges found relatives, friends or organizations interested in their welfare.

<223>

Ruth Gruber. "The Road to Oswego", Dimensions 8#2 (1994), p. 15.

<224>

Marks, Ibid., p. 1.

Winning the war was the Allies' main priority, so anti-Semites within the British and American governments were able to portray saving refugees as interfering with winning the war. Stalin, Churchill and Roosevelt gave little attention to the Jews' fate, as helping them appeared to divert resources and attention from defeating the Germans. Both America and Britain "offered excuses or gestures rather than help for Jewish refugees" (Harvey Strum, "Fort Ontario Refugee Shelter, 1944-46",American Jewish History, V.LXXII#4, 1984, p. 420).

<225>

Marks, Ibid., p. 9.

<226>

Ibid.

<227>

Ibid., p. 11.

Marks maintained: "In spite of these precautions, it later became apparent that some of the refugees had regarded the restrictions as a formality, while others hoped that they would never be actually enforced. Some...doubtless decided the make the journey either because they had relatives [in the U.S.] or because they had made previous application to enter the [U.S.]. It is difficult to know whether these persons actually misunderstood the statement, or were simply willing to gamble on a change occurring in their status after they reached the [U.S.]" (p. 12).

<228>

Lowenstein, Ibid., pp. 55-56.

The other countries each had less than 20 citizens represented and consisted of Russia, Romania, France, Turkey, Danzig, Spain, Greece, Libya, Bulgaria, Belgium, Hungary, Italy and Holland. Of the total, 436 officially were "stateless"; 874 were Jewish, 73 Catholic, 28 Orthodox and seven Protestant. (Ibid Marks noted that "the citizenship of 447 individuals, making up 270 family units, had been lost mainly through racial or religious decrees" (p. 48).

<229>

Ibid., p. 15.

<230>

Ibid.

<231>

Gruber, Ibid., p. 106.

<232>

As Marks reported the incident, "the chemicals used in the disinfestation process proved too strong for the worn clothing of a number of the refugees, with the result that many garments did not survive the process" (p. 17).

<233>

Marks said the arriving refugees presented a "sorry spectacle. Their years of privation were accentuated by the discomfort of the sea voyage and the overnight ride to the shelter. Many looked haggard, unshaven and generally unkempt. A few wore conventional summer attire, but in many cases their clothing was frayed and soiled...A large number of the children were barefoot and many adults wore the simplest kind of handmade sandals" (p.19).

<234>

Gruber, Ibid., p. 117.

<235>

Ibid., p. 118.

<236>

Lowenstein, Ibid., p. 38.

Upon arrival the refugees found "barracks, mess halls, a barbed wire fence- familiar reminders of life in other camps. But in other respects, they found Fort Ontario in summer a charming place: the parade ground was cool and green; the battlements of the old Fort fascinated the children, and the lake view was a delight. On the first evening they walked around- soothed and refreshed. They were happy about the place and well satisfied with the arrangements that had been made to receive them" (Marks, Ibid., p. 20). Fort Ontario indeed had a colorful history. Earlier during World War II Oswegonians watched apprehensively as dark-skinned troops arrived for training, followed by illiterate soldiers: according to the local department store's Jewish owner, "each group turned out better than we expected. Now its our job to make sure the town takes the same attitude toward the refugees" (Gruber, Ibid., p. 145).

<237>

Ibid., p. 119.

<238>

Marks reported that during the first weeks, the camp's staff learned something of the behavior of people who had lived "by their wits in an economy of scarcity. When food appeared, they gorged themselves. One man, for example, consumed eight eggs during one meal. They simply could not believe that there was enough for everybody. They had been in too many lines where supplies had run out before their turn was reached" (p. 23).

<239>

Gruber, Ibid., p. 119.

<240>

Ibid., p. 119-120.

The modest apartments were furnished "GI style" with two metal cots, a table, two chairs and a metal locker (p. 120).

<241>

Ibid., p. 122.

<242>

Marks, Ibid., p. 22.

<243>

Ibid., p. 29.

<244>

I bid., p. 30.

Once they had established themselves, the children's first report cards showed that they had, for the most part, been "successful in passing their school work, although a few were still hampered because of language difficulties". School officials spoke of "intense interest" which refugee children gave their work and said that in many cases refugee children served as an incentive to children from the town. At least one refugee child was elected president of his or her class (p. 51). The superintendent of Oswego's schools rated refugee children's scholastic performance "superior", their achievement "amazing". The high school principal emphasized that eight of about 40 high school refugee students had qualified for the National Honor Society; a teacher of 22 years said: "These boys are the finest I have ever had in my home room'" (p. 57).

<245>

Ibid., p. 2.

<246>

Ibid., pp. 44-45.

<247>

Gruber, Ibid., p. 140.

<248>

Ibid., pp. 147-148.

Later realizing his mistake, the camp director issued a written apology: "I went to the service happy to worship in reverence, happy to worship a common God who knows no difference of language and nationality; and proud to worship with people I thought shared a common bond of humility and devotion. Racial or national and religious differences have no place in Fort Ontario or anywhere in America. I, of a faith different from yours, came to worship with you a common God; and I hope you will respect that difference as surely as you must the differences among yourselves which result from the many cultures represented".

<249>

Strum, Ibid., p. 409.

<250>

Strum, Ibid., p. 420.

<251>

Marks, Ibid., p. 3.


[Titlepage] [Introduction] [1] [2] [3] [Appendix] [Appendix] [Abbreviations] [Bibliography] [Acknowledgements]

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