Letters Yad Vashem, Israël XI.
My dear darling, 9 September 1943
You see, I am healthy again. Still, I was in bed for 12 days, and that was enough for me. It is annoying about father again, isn’t it? And he had just been so proud of staying healthy!
I am off again to the dentist. The first time it was only a small cavity, but the second time (just now) it turned out that another nerve had to be killed. Fortunately, it is a very kind dentist who understands how to drill someone who does not want to be drilled. Steffie, his 14-year-old daughter, sleeps next to me, which is very cosy.
When I was ill, I was nursed by the barrack nurse, Sister Wollheim—who I believe is an old acquaintance of yours. A sweetheart. It is a pity she is no longer in the barrack. I was extremely happy with the last parcel of books. And of course with those beautiful socks too. Self-made? No, surely not—but they are wonderfully fine. I can always use warm things.
You once wrote something about a warm jacket. We never responded to that, but if you can still get hold of it, I would gladly accept it. Our hairpins are also finished. Those birthday parcels of yours were indescribable. Now everything is completely used up again, and we eagerly wait for the evening post. Will there be something?
How was your birthday? It must certainly have been pleasant. That you are not sensible, Manfred must not say, because you have already proven how sensible you are (through everything). I cannot match that!
Now I am here alone in the room thinking of you and of my tooth—that hurts both equally (poetic, isn’t it?). Well, homesickness is part of it. Still, you were completely wrong when you wrote that we are probably not sad here all the time or that we sometimes do not want to hear sad things. We are not sad here at all, only occasionally (with a letter or something), and then we do not show it to each other. Comprenez-vous?
So you can absolutely write cheerful things. What lovely gifts you gave Marga—she must have been delighted! How nice that Manfred and you can get along well again. I understand that when you live together like that, you sometimes go through such phases, but afterwards it usually becomes doubly good again.
Just turned 80, eh? You always claimed I was an old aunt. Now you can’t say it anymore, so I will become one!
Have I actually already thanked little Paulieneke for those French booklets? They are very nice, but I cannot do much with them anymore—I am busy learning all those words again. So thank you very much, Paulieneke. I also received your postcard. How was it in Friesland? Beautiful until the end? By the time you read this, you will of course already be back. Are you still in school, actually? I know so little about you. You must write a long (illustrated) letter so I can see where you spend your days. So I am expecting that letter.
You have no idea how wonderful it is here to receive letters. I think Lottie understands it, because I receive wonderfully long letters from her (though not so often), which I can recite perfectly by heart after half an hour.
Today I received a coat from a girl who no longer fit into it. A still quite decent winter coat—just what I needed, because my other one is too thin. See, I was right when I thought those shoes were originally yours—you had once shown them to me.
We sometimes have a little cat at the table that comes begging—a small one, just like our Stip in striped form. I wonder how our little Stip is doing? That was such a lovely time with that animal. Do you remember how it fell downstairs? (Of course you do, you say now.)
My dear, and for you so many kisses that you will be provided for them for the next two weeks from your
Suusje
You see, I am healthy again. Still, I was in bed for 12 days, and that was enough for me. It is annoying about father again, isn’t it? And he had just been so proud of staying healthy!
I am off again to the dentist. The first time it was only a small cavity, but the second time (just now) it turned out that another nerve had to be killed. Fortunately, it is a very kind dentist who understands how to drill someone who does not want to be drilled. Steffie, his 14-year-old daughter, sleeps next to me, which is very cosy.
When I was ill, I was nursed by the barrack nurse, Sister Wollheim—who I believe is an old acquaintance of yours. A sweetheart. It is a pity she is no longer in the barrack. I was extremely happy with the last parcel of books. And of course with those beautiful socks too. Self-made? No, surely not—but they are wonderfully fine. I can always use warm things.
You once wrote something about a warm jacket. We never responded to that, but if you can still get hold of it, I would gladly accept it. Our hairpins are also finished. Those birthday parcels of yours were indescribable. Now everything is completely used up again, and we eagerly wait for the evening post. Will there be something?
How was your birthday? It must certainly have been pleasant. That you are not sensible, Manfred must not say, because you have already proven how sensible you are (through everything). I cannot match that!
Now I am here alone in the room thinking of you and of my tooth—that hurts both equally (poetic, isn’t it?). Well, homesickness is part of it. Still, you were completely wrong when you wrote that we are probably not sad here all the time or that we sometimes do not want to hear sad things. We are not sad here at all, only occasionally (with a letter or something), and then we do not show it to each other. Comprenez-vous?
So you can absolutely write cheerful things. What lovely gifts you gave Marga—she must have been delighted! How nice that Manfred and you can get along well again. I understand that when you live together like that, you sometimes go through such phases, but afterwards it usually becomes doubly good again.
Just turned 80, eh? You always claimed I was an old aunt. Now you can’t say it anymore, so I will become one!
Have I actually already thanked little Paulieneke for those French booklets? They are very nice, but I cannot do much with them anymore—I am busy learning all those words again. So thank you very much, Paulieneke. I also received your postcard. How was it in Friesland? Beautiful until the end? By the time you read this, you will of course already be back. Are you still in school, actually? I know so little about you. You must write a long (illustrated) letter so I can see where you spend your days. So I am expecting that letter.
You have no idea how wonderful it is here to receive letters. I think Lottie understands it, because I receive wonderfully long letters from her (though not so often), which I can recite perfectly by heart after half an hour.
Today I received a coat from a girl who no longer fit into it. A still quite decent winter coat—just what I needed, because my other one is too thin. See, I was right when I thought those shoes were originally yours—you had once shown them to me.
We sometimes have a little cat at the table that comes begging—a small one, just like our Stip in striped form. I wonder how our little Stip is doing? That was such a lovely time with that animal. Do you remember how it fell downstairs? (Of course you do, you say now.)
My dear, and for you so many kisses that you will be provided for them for the next two weeks from your
Suusje
My dear friend, Westerbork, 7 October 1943
Today we are celebrating a birthday here for the first time (Sanne turned 15 on 8 October). We have made an effort to turn it into a festive day for Susanne despite everything, and it seems to have worked, because when she stood by my bed early this morning to receive her birthday kiss—the only gift I had for her—she was as giggly as one would expect of a schoolgirl.
The preparations were of course taken care of by Ilse, as you can imagine. I am, due to my condition, too busy suffering to have time for anything else. I have now had 12 of the 24 injections, and I can state without exaggeration that none of them have had any effect. I reliably get stomach pain three times a day, which usually subsides after eating something.
This is still bearable in itself, provided I did not worry so much about the future, which I cannot foresee. We visit your uncle (Heinz Kaempfer) every evening in the sick barrack. He is doing reasonably well under the circumstances, although the healing of the wound is taking longer than expected. He behaves patiently and bravely, and at times you can hardly reach him because he receives so many visitors, especially since he has made so many friends recently.
My heartfelt thanks again for your wonderful parcels—they are of great help now. I am bold enough to ask one more thing. It has become noticeably colder at night recently. Could you perhaps manage to get hold of some flannel nightgowns? I would also be very grateful for razor blades; my supply is running out faster than I expected. Many thanks in advance!
Sanne was overjoyed with your birthday card that arrived yesterday. Thank you, you and Manfred! But most remarkable was the sausage, which shone like a sunbeam for several afternoons—will the sun ever rise again? Sanne has just come in and is happily announcing that a large parcel has arrived for her. So it is turning into a real birthday after all.
Give my greetings to all loved ones and friends, especially Paul and Lien, to whom we are sincerely grateful for all their kindness.
Warm greetings,
your
Franz
(Letter from Franz Ledermann to his daughter Barbara in Amsterdam.)
My dear friends, 20 October 1943
First of all, many thanks for your letter of 5 August, which we received on 8 October. We think of you often and with friendship. The knitted dress for Gaby Goslar arrived safely, is worn constantly, and is admired everywhere.
I myself have now completed all 24 Larcotidin injections, and I can say without exaggeration that they have had no effect whatsoever. My stomach pain remains unchanged, and according to the local doctors’ remarks I will probably have to live with it for the rest of my life, and be satisfied if it remains as tolerable as it mostly still is. It will depend on diet and rest, and the outlook is not very good.
As a result, I often sink into depression, in which I see myself as a burden to my already heavily burdened wife. But this too will pass. Heinz is still in the sick barrack. The healing of the surgical wound has been delayed somewhat due to fluid formation, and a few days ago he had intestinal colic unrelated to the wound, which was very painful, but is now over. Yesterday he still had diarrhoea, but no more pain. We naturally visit him daily, sometimes twice a day; he is patient, as always. Afterwards we usually go to Annemarie, who is there due to a simple intestinal operation but is already recovering well.
To move on to something more cheerful: Lotti (Barbara) and Paul, thank you very much for the wonderful parcels. The Swedish bread in particular was a treat—much tastier than rye bread. We would be very grateful for any repetition, perhaps also some good German bread; any variation from the bread here is a delight. The artificial honey was also a treat—it almost caused quarrelling, while the Swedish bread nearly led to a serious family dispute. The flowers and the gilded vase arrived on time and caused sincere admiration throughout the barrack.
The two birthdays were celebrated quietly—Susanne’s with a small group, accompanied by plenty of coffee and cake, and as far as I know with the same friends as in Amsterdam.
How is it with the razor blades? To my misfortune I lost my shaving brush today. I do not know whether such things are available in the canteen—is it still possible to obtain them there? Ilse has already written to you about Willy. I envy him greatly and would also like to have something similar for reasons of security. Hans congratulated me on the 15th; they apparently do not know our birthdays and asked us for photographs.
At present I am working in the internal service. I can well imagine that flannel nightgowns are no longer available. Could you perhaps send me a flannel nightgown or pyjamas? That would be wonderful and warm.
Give my greetings to all from
Franz
Could you send Esbit or solid fuel tablets? We urgently need them.
What Franz could not yet know is that he, Ilse, and Susanne would be no longer be alive one month later.
Today we are celebrating a birthday here for the first time (Sanne turned 15 on 8 October). We have made an effort to turn it into a festive day for Susanne despite everything, and it seems to have worked, because when she stood by my bed early this morning to receive her birthday kiss—the only gift I had for her—she was as giggly as one would expect of a schoolgirl.
The preparations were of course taken care of by Ilse, as you can imagine. I am, due to my condition, too busy suffering to have time for anything else. I have now had 12 of the 24 injections, and I can state without exaggeration that none of them have had any effect. I reliably get stomach pain three times a day, which usually subsides after eating something.
This is still bearable in itself, provided I did not worry so much about the future, which I cannot foresee. We visit your uncle (Heinz Kaempfer) every evening in the sick barrack. He is doing reasonably well under the circumstances, although the healing of the wound is taking longer than expected. He behaves patiently and bravely, and at times you can hardly reach him because he receives so many visitors, especially since he has made so many friends recently.
My heartfelt thanks again for your wonderful parcels—they are of great help now. I am bold enough to ask one more thing. It has become noticeably colder at night recently. Could you perhaps manage to get hold of some flannel nightgowns? I would also be very grateful for razor blades; my supply is running out faster than I expected. Many thanks in advance!
Sanne was overjoyed with your birthday card that arrived yesterday. Thank you, you and Manfred! But most remarkable was the sausage, which shone like a sunbeam for several afternoons—will the sun ever rise again? Sanne has just come in and is happily announcing that a large parcel has arrived for her. So it is turning into a real birthday after all.
Give my greetings to all loved ones and friends, especially Paul and Lien, to whom we are sincerely grateful for all their kindness.
Warm greetings,
your
Franz
(Letter from Franz Ledermann to his daughter Barbara in Amsterdam.)
My dear friends, 20 October 1943
First of all, many thanks for your letter of 5 August, which we received on 8 October. We think of you often and with friendship. The knitted dress for Gaby Goslar arrived safely, is worn constantly, and is admired everywhere.
I myself have now completed all 24 Larcotidin injections, and I can say without exaggeration that they have had no effect whatsoever. My stomach pain remains unchanged, and according to the local doctors’ remarks I will probably have to live with it for the rest of my life, and be satisfied if it remains as tolerable as it mostly still is. It will depend on diet and rest, and the outlook is not very good.
As a result, I often sink into depression, in which I see myself as a burden to my already heavily burdened wife. But this too will pass. Heinz is still in the sick barrack. The healing of the surgical wound has been delayed somewhat due to fluid formation, and a few days ago he had intestinal colic unrelated to the wound, which was very painful, but is now over. Yesterday he still had diarrhoea, but no more pain. We naturally visit him daily, sometimes twice a day; he is patient, as always. Afterwards we usually go to Annemarie, who is there due to a simple intestinal operation but is already recovering well.
To move on to something more cheerful: Lotti (Barbara) and Paul, thank you very much for the wonderful parcels. The Swedish bread in particular was a treat—much tastier than rye bread. We would be very grateful for any repetition, perhaps also some good German bread; any variation from the bread here is a delight. The artificial honey was also a treat—it almost caused quarrelling, while the Swedish bread nearly led to a serious family dispute. The flowers and the gilded vase arrived on time and caused sincere admiration throughout the barrack.
The two birthdays were celebrated quietly—Susanne’s with a small group, accompanied by plenty of coffee and cake, and as far as I know with the same friends as in Amsterdam.
How is it with the razor blades? To my misfortune I lost my shaving brush today. I do not know whether such things are available in the canteen—is it still possible to obtain them there? Ilse has already written to you about Willy. I envy him greatly and would also like to have something similar for reasons of security. Hans congratulated me on the 15th; they apparently do not know our birthdays and asked us for photographs.
At present I am working in the internal service. I can well imagine that flannel nightgowns are no longer available. Could you perhaps send me a flannel nightgown or pyjamas? That would be wonderful and warm.
Give my greetings to all from
Franz
Could you send Esbit or solid fuel tablets? We urgently need them.
What Franz could not yet know is that he, Ilse, and Susanne would be no longer be alive one month later.
20-10-1943
Paulchen, Lienchen, Paulienchen, .. .. Hänschen, Ruthlein, Dolly, Vincent. Ihr seid ja Zauberer. Thermusflaschen .. was wir hier aus
. tigsten brauchen. .. , die grafe, war leider kaputt. Gibt noch das . ere allein zu kaufen? Dann schickt das. Inzwischen haben wir auch ein Haufen B.. aus ein ... , noch nach Anfang August mit dein ... und anderen Zeichnungen, die wir ... schön fanden. Die arme Gallinka!
... ist es ausgegangen mit dein Kind? ... doch Deine Rock! Ich dachte es gleich. Habe mir das ... ... enger gemacht, ... ...
Dass Sal, nachdem alles so gut überstanden war, nur doch das ... ... allen gehen musste ist ein grosser Pech. Sagt ... wie leid es uns tut. Sicher hat er noch ... bestellt. Und dass Frau ... mit ... liegt, tut mir auch sehr leid. Das haben hier auch viele Leute Gelbsucht und ... grossieren. Sanne hat Grippe, ist heute fieberfrei. Gut das ich sie jetzt schon versorgen kann, daduch die ... .... .... Zeit für mich ist. Ich habe auch 2 Tage leicht angegrippt gelegen zwar auch übermüdet und ... jetzt. ... zu Franz ... lag ich und die ... ... . Maiglöckchen ... mich und viele andere. Es kamen ... die dunckle Baracke . ieleinzigers, ... ... in Rosenbaums ... hatte ... gebacken, Sanne einere ..kopfgesch.. Haus' Brief mit Fotos ... auch, sehr erfreulich. Daselbst ist einer er ... willkommenere ... alles Frische, auch der Kunst.., die schär.. Kuchen und Kuchleine, aber war allein das Schwedische Brot. Kinder schickt davon ... Ihr könnt! Aber auch ...brot, weissbrot etc. Wir ehalten uns damit ... und Zitronen, Kaffee zurragat und etwas Tee und auch einicher kochsaillk... . ... gut habt Ihr die ...sachen geschickt, dass keine fl. Heute ... mehr nie haben wird, dachte ich mir. Ich ... mir, ... dickere H... , ... ... bei Lena unserer eines ... , Franz hatte drei davon aber leider keines hier. ... ... Ihr viele irgendwo einen Flanellpyama für ihn ... Ich schlafe jetzt ... Laken. Berug mir ... ..., weil das alle ... ist, aber ein ... al sch.. ich mich arg nach ... . Dann entdecke und denke, es ... das gräfische Stück, darunter ... liegen. Sanne hat die leckere Torte von Eva bekommen und Franz die köstliche Kuchen , auch Heinz sagt es ihnen bitte auch unsere innige Dank über Heinz berichtet Franz an Treu's. Gibt's solches wie eine Lakerucken, wie das ... ein Lichtskellen kann? Das wäre schön. A Sontag Abend sind wir zusammen bei Bial zum Tee eingeladen, ... die ... euere grosse besprochen ... und ... mal augenblick ... und kanst wie eine stillers,
Paulchen, Lienchen, Paulienchen, .. .. Hänschen, Ruthlein, Dolly, Vincent. Ihr seid ja Zauberer. Thermusflaschen .. was wir hier aus
. tigsten brauchen. .. , die grafe, war leider kaputt. Gibt noch das . ere allein zu kaufen? Dann schickt das. Inzwischen haben wir auch ein Haufen B.. aus ein ... , noch nach Anfang August mit dein ... und anderen Zeichnungen, die wir ... schön fanden. Die arme Gallinka!
... ist es ausgegangen mit dein Kind? ... doch Deine Rock! Ich dachte es gleich. Habe mir das ... ... enger gemacht, ... ...
Dass Sal, nachdem alles so gut überstanden war, nur doch das ... ... allen gehen musste ist ein grosser Pech. Sagt ... wie leid es uns tut. Sicher hat er noch ... bestellt. Und dass Frau ... mit ... liegt, tut mir auch sehr leid. Das haben hier auch viele Leute Gelbsucht und ... grossieren. Sanne hat Grippe, ist heute fieberfrei. Gut das ich sie jetzt schon versorgen kann, daduch die ... .... .... Zeit für mich ist. Ich habe auch 2 Tage leicht angegrippt gelegen zwar auch übermüdet und ... jetzt. ... zu Franz ... lag ich und die ... ... . Maiglöckchen ... mich und viele andere. Es kamen ... die dunckle Baracke . ieleinzigers, ... ... in Rosenbaums ... hatte ... gebacken, Sanne einere ..kopfgesch.. Haus' Brief mit Fotos ... auch, sehr erfreulich. Daselbst ist einer er ... willkommenere ... alles Frische, auch der Kunst.., die schär.. Kuchen und Kuchleine, aber war allein das Schwedische Brot. Kinder schickt davon ... Ihr könnt! Aber auch ...brot, weissbrot etc. Wir ehalten uns damit ... und Zitronen, Kaffee zurragat und etwas Tee und auch einicher kochsaillk... . ... gut habt Ihr die ...sachen geschickt, dass keine fl. Heute ... mehr nie haben wird, dachte ich mir. Ich ... mir, ... dickere H... , ... ... bei Lena unserer eines ... , Franz hatte drei davon aber leider keines hier. ... ... Ihr viele irgendwo einen Flanellpyama für ihn ... Ich schlafe jetzt ... Laken. Berug mir ... ..., weil das alle ... ist, aber ein ... al sch.. ich mich arg nach ... . Dann entdecke und denke, es ... das gräfische Stück, darunter ... liegen. Sanne hat die leckere Torte von Eva bekommen und Franz die köstliche Kuchen , auch Heinz sagt es ihnen bitte auch unsere innige Dank über Heinz berichtet Franz an Treu's. Gibt's solches wie eine Lakerucken, wie das ... ein Lichtskellen kann? Das wäre schön. A Sontag Abend sind wir zusammen bei Bial zum Tee eingeladen, ... die ... euere grosse besprochen ... und ... mal augenblick ... und kanst wie eine stillers,
My dear ones, 22 October 1943
First of all, dear Hans, many congratulations on your birthday. May all your wishes for the future come true. How wonderful that everything has gone so well so far—something you owe largely to your own vitality. So keep it up. I am very happy to hear so much good about you and glad that I can send you this short greeting of congratulations.
The Ledermanns wish you the same, which Louise unfortunately forgot, much to her regret, on the planned writing day. Franz has been free of pain for several days now. Sanne is also doing better after her flu.
We continue our usual life: a life filled with work, which gives us only little time each day to speak with one another. Those are the happiest moments, but most of the time one is too exhausted. Among the bright spots are, of course, your letters and the lovingly and carefully composed parcels, as well as Paulieneke’s wonderful letters, through which the drawings have arrived as well—everything is very beautiful and well done.
I always feel ashamed when I again list new wishes. The elastic band intended especially for me and the garters arrived just in time. Lientje and the delicious fruit were a real boost. If it were not for the little lights, we would sit in the dark during evening meals, and we can make use of everything and feel that there are still loving people behind the forests. And what people they are!
And now the wish list: if possible, enamel pots, matches, coffee sugar, flour?? And of course now nothing else comes to mind. In general my memory is poor, and I was never able to make notes. I am wearing your skirt, Lientje, at the moment; it looks like new. I will have it slightly narrowed at the waist in the sewing corner, of which there is one in every barrack. But that you can spare it, after you had the … … Three flat irons can be used … and that is it for this time.
Is it not tragic that things ended so badly with Sal? The poor Wil and Til make me so sad. Please tell them and send them my warmest greetings.
Through Erna and Johan, whose dear letter cheered me up so much. The daughter of Dr. Polak is now also working as a child carer in my barrack, which is actually the … The … for themselves as something special and do not want any …, which I strongly advised against. I spoke with everyone against … Franz is no longer lying here opposite me. If I had not reported to number 64, but unfortunately the prevailing …
In the evenings one is never together. I embrace all of you lovingly, your
Mutti
First of all, dear Hans, many congratulations on your birthday. May all your wishes for the future come true. How wonderful that everything has gone so well so far—something you owe largely to your own vitality. So keep it up. I am very happy to hear so much good about you and glad that I can send you this short greeting of congratulations.
The Ledermanns wish you the same, which Louise unfortunately forgot, much to her regret, on the planned writing day. Franz has been free of pain for several days now. Sanne is also doing better after her flu.
We continue our usual life: a life filled with work, which gives us only little time each day to speak with one another. Those are the happiest moments, but most of the time one is too exhausted. Among the bright spots are, of course, your letters and the lovingly and carefully composed parcels, as well as Paulieneke’s wonderful letters, through which the drawings have arrived as well—everything is very beautiful and well done.
I always feel ashamed when I again list new wishes. The elastic band intended especially for me and the garters arrived just in time. Lientje and the delicious fruit were a real boost. If it were not for the little lights, we would sit in the dark during evening meals, and we can make use of everything and feel that there are still loving people behind the forests. And what people they are!
And now the wish list: if possible, enamel pots, matches, coffee sugar, flour?? And of course now nothing else comes to mind. In general my memory is poor, and I was never able to make notes. I am wearing your skirt, Lientje, at the moment; it looks like new. I will have it slightly narrowed at the waist in the sewing corner, of which there is one in every barrack. But that you can spare it, after you had the … … Three flat irons can be used … and that is it for this time.
Is it not tragic that things ended so badly with Sal? The poor Wil and Til make me so sad. Please tell them and send them my warmest greetings.
Through Erna and Johan, whose dear letter cheered me up so much. The daughter of Dr. Polak is now also working as a child carer in my barrack, which is actually the … The … for themselves as something special and do not want any …, which I strongly advised against. I spoke with everyone against … Franz is no longer lying here opposite me. If I had not reported to number 64, but unfortunately the prevailing …
In the evenings one is never together. I embrace all of you lovingly, your
Mutti
This is the very last sign of life from the Ledermann family. It is a transcription of a handwritten postcard that was thrown from the train en route to Auschwitz.
My dearest ones, 16 November 1943
We are on our first major journey in a long time together with Käthe (Kaempfer). Grandmother is sitting on a chair. For now, it is going well. We are with 45 people, which is quite manageable. Everyone has given us an enormous amount of food supplies.
It is very sad for Mother and Heinz. Do not worry about us; we have good courage, and only if you are sad would that weigh on us.
My little Bärbel (Barbara), stay strong. That is what you are all wishing each other now. Greetings to Manni (Manfred). Your last parcels were wonderful. We have brought the chamber pot with us. Also Papa’s bathrobe, the wool, and everything that was sent to Grandma. Suitable people here—everyone still without (Palestine) certificates.
We are travelling now, goodbye dears. With all love, the best, goodbye.
Your Ilse
We are on our first major journey in a long time together with Käthe (Kaempfer). Grandmother is sitting on a chair. For now, it is going well. We are with 45 people, which is quite manageable. Everyone has given us an enormous amount of food supplies.
It is very sad for Mother and Heinz. Do not worry about us; we have good courage, and only if you are sad would that weigh on us.
My little Bärbel (Barbara), stay strong. That is what you are all wishing each other now. Greetings to Manni (Manfred). Your last parcels were wonderful. We have brought the chamber pot with us. Also Papa’s bathrobe, the wool, and everything that was sent to Grandma. Suitable people here—everyone still without (Palestine) certificates.
We are travelling now, goodbye dears. With all love, the best, goodbye.
Your Ilse
This was the last sign of life from Franz Ledermann, Susanne Ledermann, and Ilse Ledermann-Citroen. Upon arrival in Auschwitz on 19 November 1943, all three of them were immediately murdered.
NEXT
WEGGUM.COM
NEXT
WEGGUM.COM