Another Narrow Escape

March 31st, 2012 → 5:18 pm @ // No Comments

After Father and I narrowly survived the British bombing raid in Ulm (the topic of my previous blog) we somehow found our way back to Bregenz, Austria

“…In Bregenz we immediately went to the employment office. This time, though, we were treated with obvious contempt. The administrator with whom Father dealt with considered him to be a deserter having fled a city that needed all the help it could get in order to restore its vital infrastructure. Eventually, we were given train tickets for Salzburg, Austria, and directed to report to a camp on the outskirts of the city.

A day later we disembarked at a railway station on the fringes of Salzburg. The camp, where we had been told to report, was only a short walking distance from the station. As we arrived at the main gate we saw hundreds of people who appeared to be refugees like us, slowly coming from the direction of the station with their belongings, making their way into the facility. To put it mildly, the place looked quite ominous and suspicious, particularly to my father. By word of mouth he had heard of concentration camps but never mentioned a word about them to me. That skepticism would shortly end up saving our lives.

The camp was quite large and made up of multiple extended rows of wooden barracks. It was surrounded by about a fifteen foot high barbed wire fence curved inward at the top, obviously meant to keep people from leaving. In addition, two armed soldiers were posted at the gate. After being liberated by the French, father told me that the place had probably been a temporary holding area for “undesirables” who later would most likely end up in a concentration camp.

Father and I were among a large group of people as we entered the camp. We had barely gone through the gate when Father stopped suddenly. He intuitively sensed danger and wasn’t about to be interned voluntarily. Without looking directly at me, he whispered to me that we would slowly turn around and walk back out of the gate. He also asked me to be as casual as possible in order not to attract any undue attention from the guards. I remember that it all came about so quickly that Father didn’t even set down either the suitcase or duffle bag he was carrying.

We were lucky because a lot of people were still entering the camp and the sentries weren’t paying much attention to what was going on around them. We walked quickly back to the railway station and boarded the next train headed back to Bregenz. I suppose that father’s newly acquired identification paper from Ulm was still working since I don’t recall anyone at the station questioning us as to where we were going. We met an Estonian refugee on the train who was on his way to a small village called Götzig, not far south from Bregenz near the Lichtenstein border. He was going to work in a shoe factory there and suggested to Father that he might also want to seek employment at the same plant when we got to Bregenz…”

Before long my father would be threatened with execution by a German military police unit close to the Swiss border. But that’s another story reserved for another blog.


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