Following is a story, and like all stories, it is sometimes sad and sometimes happy. This is where and how it begins:
Vienna, Austria, 1938, after the Anschluss (the annexation of Austria
to the Third Reich) and I am an eight-years old girl. I remember, how with traumatic suddenness our
lives were changed. I was warned not to visit any longer the house of my blond
and blue-eyed neighbor and friend Gerda,
since she was not one of us. Jewish pupils who had been
expelled from Aryan schools were accepted in my Jewish school on
Kasteletz Gasse, bordering
the Au-Garten. Soon
to be closed completely.
Today it is again a Jewish school, with classes ranging from
kindergarten to high school.
This was also the place where Vienna's Jews were rounded up before
being deported eastward to annihilation.
A plaque attached to the school's wall attests to
this fact.
I visited there in the fall of 1997. I walked up the
well-known corridors, entered into the
classrooms, and
spoke with the Christian principal, who told me that most
of the teachers in the school were not Jews. In her opinion, there were very few
good Jewish teachers, and the cost of the
teachers sent from Israel was too high, because they came with
their families. At the end of my visit, I asked to be
photographed next to the plaque referred to, above.
I remember how we - my parents, brother, aunts , uncles and my cousins would spend the summer months together
in one of the Austrian villages in order to take us, the children away from the
city to the heart of nature. There were also the birthday parties and the very long Seder
nights. In our
home we read the Haggadah twice - my grandfather in German and my father in Hebrew.
I recall, how
in that year our extended family would gather periodically at the train
station, to
bid farewell to one of its branches - a lucky branch that had
succeeded in obtaining entry visas to another country. Thus, two of my mother's
sisters and their families immigrated to New Zealand. My mother's oldest
brother, Richard, perished in the Izbica
extermination camp in eastern Poland, while his wife and
daughters found refuge in England. My family, the Rosners, were privileged to
arrive in Eretz Israel in February 1939.
My mother's youngest brother, Dr.Fritz Finaly, a physician, and his newly-wed wife
Anni Schwartz, tried their luck in
Czechoslovakia. When the Germans
overran that country, they fled to Grenoble, France, and settled there.
Anni and Fritz acquired, over time, friends among the local
Jewish community. In 1941, their first son, Robert, was born followed by
Gerald in 1942.
In the beginning of 1944, Anni and Fritz were
warned by acquaintances that the Nazis decided to transport Grenoble's
Jews to the camps. They did not have time
to escape or hide. Fritz was arrested, while walking on the
street, returning
from a visit of a sick French underground member, and Anni, a few hours later in
their apartment. Both of them were on
one of the last transports that left on the 3rd of March 1944 from Drancy to Auschwitz - neither survived.
A few days before their arrest, while the earth was
burning beneath their feet, Fritz and Anni
entrusted to one of their neighbors, the 2½ year-old Robert and the 1½ year-old Gerald. Along with the children, that neighbor was also
given a leather suitcase, containing some of my
uncle's medical equipment, jewelry, photographs, documents, and the addresses of
Fritz' three sisters: My aunts Grete Fischel
and Luise Rothbaum in New Zealand, and my mother and
father, Yehudit
and Moshe Rosner, in Gedera Israel.
A letter was also attached, in which it was
requested that if the worst possible scenario came to pass, at the end of the war
my two aunts in New Zealand were to be contacted. The boys, circumcised at birth, were to be returned to
the arms of their family.
This devoted neighbor was unable to support the children over a long
period of time, and asked the sisters
of the order Notre-Dame-de-Sion to hide them. The nuns agreed, but fearing that the
two toddlers, far
younger that any of the other children who attended the monastery's
school, would
arouse the suspicion of the SS, transferred them to the
Catholic day nursery of Grenoble's municipality.
At day's end, almost
all the children were taken home by their parents. Seven children, including Robert and
Gerald, had
no homes. The
nursery's headmistress, Mlle. Brun, who lived in a house
next to the nursery, saw to it, that her housekeeper
would bring these seven children to her private residence.
Mlle. Brun
was a very devout, unmarried Catholic, with close ties to the
mayor of Grenoble and to all levels of the local clergy.
Immediately at the War's end in 1945, Grete Fischel contacted
the city of Grenoble and inquired about the well being of Fritz, Anni, Robert and Gerald. The mayor reported in a
return letter about the parents' fate, added that the children
were in good hands, and that there is no
reason to be concerned about them. My aunt tried in
various ways, including
using the Red Cross as an intermediary, to have the children
transferred to her. But she run up against
the absolute refusal of Mlle. Brun, who claimed that the
children call her “Mum”, that they were little
and ill, and
that one could not consider the possibility of their journey to New
Zealand, even
if their aunt would come to take them.
Mlle. Brun
gave various and sundry reasons, for not returning the
children until 1948. In that year, she had both, Robert and Gerald
baptized.
Now my aunt Grete Fischel asked the help and involvement of my parents
to fulfill the request of my uncle Fritz and his wifet Anni: to join together, and help save the
children and return them to the bosom of their biological family and to
Judaism. My
parents joined in the undertaking, but made a condition - if and when the rescue
succeeded, the
children would live their lives with us in Gedera, Israel and not in New
Zealand.
At this point, Moshe Keller, a chemical engineer and
resident of Grenoble, joined in the rescue
efforts. It
was his and his wife Gusta's good fortune, not to have shared the
fate of Anni and Fritz. More than once, when playing with his
two sons who happened to be at Robert and Gerald's age, he reflected, on what could have
happened to them. These thoughts impelled
him to help the Finaly family
.
In cooperation with my parents, who arrived in France in 1951, Mr. Keller attempted to convince Mlle. Brun to relinquish the children. She continued in her obstinacy, claiming to have saved their lives, that she was their mother, that they were Catholics and that she had no intention of being separated from them.
My mother, one-day
stationed herself at the entrance of the nursery and attempted to meet
her nephews. The police shamelessly
evicted her, after
standing there in vain for some hours. Mlle. Brun had called the
police.
Left with no alternative, the Courts were
approached. The
noted French Attorney, Me. Garcon, presented the claim to
the court. He
was convinced that the family's claim was justified. After endless hearings
and counter suits, the court ruled in 1951, that Mlle. Brun was required to
return the children to their biological family.
Now
- a 'devil's dance' began in all
earnestness. France
was divided into two opposing groups - one side supported the
Church - stating their belief
that “once
a Catholic (because
of the baptism) always a Catholic,” therefore the children
should remain in her bosom.
This camp gained the encouragement of Francois Mauriac, who published an
article in which he ponders, and I quote: “which covenant will tip
the balance, that
of the children with their ancestors, who were consigned to
the inferno, or
the covenant which was made with the son of David who was consigned to
the cross for their sake, and whose sign has been
engraved on them, and since their baptism
He
[Jesus] knows them by their
first names”.
Those of the second camp, supported the law of
the land, and
argued, that
the Church did not have the right to disregard the decision of the
Supreme Court.
There were also arguments on the issue of morality. The question raised was: What should be the
determining factor; the blood relationship
of the children or the good of the children who had become accustomed
to a particular environment.. The older brother, Robert, was already serving as
an acolyte. Today, Robert is convinced
that if he had remained immersed in that atmosphere, he would be wearing now, the attire of
priesthood.
Even in the Jewish community, there was a difference
of opinion on the issue. A large number of
members feared that, again, as in the days of the
Dreyfus trial, anti-Semitism would
increase, and
voiced their feelings of apprehension. Historians and
researchers, who
followed the developing events, wrote years later, that not since the days
of Dreyfus, was
the community as agitated as it was in the days of the “Finaly Affair”.
However, Mlle. Brun had no intention
of obeying the law. Being a very devout
Catholic, she
was convinced that it was her duty to “save” my cousins' souls.
She acted quickly. With the help of her
sister and the Catholic clergy of Grenoble, the boys were smuggled
into Switzerland under assumed names. When their identity was
discovered, they
were returned. My parents and Moshe
Keller went to retrieve them, but they disappeared
again, this
time with the help of low level clergy who had the audacity to
disregard the order of Pope Pius XII, who insisted that the
civil law should be obeyed. The brothers were
smuggled in the freezing winter snow, at night across the
Pyrenees to the Basque region of Spain. They were separated and
each was sent to a different village. At one point, a false rumor, claiming that Gerald
had taken ill and died was circulated. Robert was then 11 and Gerald was 10.
The turning point arrived, when it became clear to
the Church hierarchy, that there was no
escaping their being taken to court, to face charges of
disregarding an order of the Supreme Court of France, and of kidnapping. The Church's hierarchy
knew, that
there are defenitely no chances , to diverse the court's
instructions and verdict.
It took several months until the priests who abducted the brothers - and only with the
intervention of the Pope - accepted the fact that
they had no choice, and must, once and for all, give Robert and Gerald
up.
Mlle. Brun
and the two priests were tried and found guilty of abducting the
brothers. Each
was jailed for different periods of time.
On
June 26th, 1953, the boys were turned
over to the Spanish government and were brought to the French border.
Exactly one month later, on July 26th, under a veil of secrecy, an El Al airplane took
off, from
the Paris airport to Tel Aviv, carrying my parents and
my cousins Robert and Gerald Finaly.
Their flight was El-Al's courtesy.
Everybody in Israel celebrated with us when the boys came home. In Gedera, all the schoolchildren
lined the streets and received them with bouquets of flowers.
The boys' adjustment to Israel
was not easy. In
our family, only
our father knew French. Guidance came from the
excellent psychologists of “Aliyat-Hanoar”, (Youth Aliyah), whose names I must
mention here: Kalman Binyamini z”l, and Professor Reuven
Feuerstein, Israel
prize laureate, who helped, advised, supported without
limits. It
was according to those psychologists advice, that Robert and Gerald
spent their first weeks in Israel at Kibbutz Neve Ilan, whose members
originated in France. At least one family
member stayed with them at the kibbutz. In addition, Gabi, a social worker sent by
the Jewish community of Paris, accompanied them. Gabi had been with
Robert and Gerald since their arrival from Spain.
The next invitation came from the religious French speaking “Poalei-Mizrachi” Kibbutz, Ein Hanatziv, in the Beit-Shean
valley One of the kibbutz members, Jacques Schmuel, who was to become a
dear friend of the family, had a very good idea: he felt that since the
boys came from a strongly religious, albeit Catholic, atmosphere, the traditional-secular
atmosphere that prevailed in our house would be difficult for them. So Jacques Schmuel
asked: “Perhaps would you like
to spend the happy Sukkoth holiday, which is infused with
many folkloristic elements, with us at the kibbutz?” On the advice of the
psychologists, the invitation was
readily accepted and we all went to Ein HaNatziv for Sukkoth.
During the holiday, when attending
Synagogue, Gerald
took out his camera, also a present, and wanted to record
for posterity the progress of the service. One of the members told
him that it was prohibited to photograph on the holiday. The answer was quick: “I'm still a little bit
Christian!”
From that time, Robert and Gerald have
been part of our family, the Jewish people and
Israel. Both
raised families. Their children reached
adulthood, and
each went his own way.
Robert and Ann Finaly live in in Omer, by Beersheba. Robert, like his father, is a physician, a senior staff member
at Soroka Hospital. Gerald, who insists since his
arrival on introducing himself as Gadi, is an army reserve
officer and enjoys a pension from the Bezek Telephone Company. Gerald lives with his
wife Ilana in Kiryat Motzkin after many years in Kiryat Hayim.
Afterword
In 1984, a French UN officer purchased a house in Grenoble. In the cellar of the house, which had previously been the city's day nursery, he found an old wooden chest, with an engraved monogram:F.F. The chest contained photographs and documents of the Finaly family. It had been taken/stolen by Mlle. Brun from the Finaly's apartment, when all hope for the return of Fritz and Anni was gone.
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Sometime later, the photographs in the
trunk were of great assistance in helping to discover branches of the
Finaly family that lived, and still does so, in Hungary, and until 1997 no one had known of
their existence.
