Here are printed in full length the winning essays in the 2013 Holocaust Youth Essay Contest.
The contest is open to all students in grades 7-9 (Division I) and 10-12 (Division II). This year’s topic was: “During World War II, many countries were occupied or influenced by the Nazis. Discuss and give examples of how people in at least one country helped Jews. What do you think you would do in a similar situation and why?”
The award winners were announced and presented at the community-wide Yom HaShoah Commemoration on April 7. The top two winners in each division won a trip to the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. Their schools will receive a book.
The contest is co-sponsored by the Habush Family Foundation and the Nathan and Esther Pelz Holocaust Education Resource Center, and is a program of the Harry & Rose Samson Family Jewish Community Center. It is chaired by Esther Ancel.
Joel Kaswan
Milwaukee Jewish Day School
8th Grade
Division I
Rescue in Nazi Europe
The SS officers are coming to check the house. Although I am not Jewish, I am risking as much as the Jews hiding in my cellar, my life. Not only my life but also my family’s life.
I am a rescuer, some might even call me a Righteous Gentile, but I just think of myself as someone trying to help innocent people escape their deaths.
This was the situation for the people in Europe who saved Jews. Denmark, France and the Netherlands were three European countries in which many people tried, with many succeeding, to save Jews from being persecuted by the Nazis.
Denmark was the only occupied country that actually resisted the Nazi attempts to deport its Jewish citizens. Out of 8,000 Danish Jews, only 500 were deported.
The story of two individuals, Herbert Pundik and Erling Kiaer, and a resistance group called Holger Danske illustrates how the Danish people worked together to help Jews. Herbert Pundik, a 16-year-old Danish Jew, had to go into hiding when the Germans captured Denmark. Herbert was later smuggled into Sweden on a small, crowded fishing boat with 12 other Jews. The trip took a whole night; fishermen, rowers and other volunteers rowed it.
Erling Kiaer was the founder of an operation named the Clandestine Rescue of Danish Jews, codenamed “Helsingor Sewing Club”. This operation/group smuggled hundreds of Jews to Sweden. Unfortunately, in May 1944, Kiaer was betrayed and arrested.
France was another occupied country that had many resistance groups. Although the aim of many was just to kill Nazis and help the invasion, there were still some people who helped Jews.
Some of these people/groups were a whole village, Le Chambon, small resistant groups, called Maquis, and a Jewish Army, Armeé Juive.
Le Chambon was a small village in southern Vichy France. Although Vichy wasn’t directly controlled by the Nazis but by Frenchmen appointed by the Nazis, there was still punishment for anyone who helped the Jews. The villagers in Le Chambon hid thousands of Jews in private homes, farms and churches. They saved mostly children because they could blend in with local kids at school or homes. The villagers also aided many people who were on their way to Switzerland. All these people were encouraged by Pastor Trochme, who also hid many in his home.
Maquis were what the French called small armed groups of men and women who fought the Nazis in the forests and published an underground newspaper, which was considered secret Nazi intelligence and information. Many of these groups also helped the Allies in the liberation. Many, many Jews participated. In fact 15 to 20 percent of these groups were Jews.
The Armeé Juive or the Jewish Army was a Jewish resistance group established in 1942. They organized armed resistance under the Zionist flag until the liberation. This group was able to smuggle 300 Jews out of the country.
When the Nazis invaded the Netherlands, many Dutch people did not like how their army and government did nothing and just welcomed the Nazis into the country. Since the government would not fight, some people decided to fight back themselves.
One group was the Communist party, which included many Jews. They organized the February strike in 1941, which was a big protest against anti-Jewish laws. Many, many Jews participated in this protest. Unfortunately after the February strike the Gestapo killed all the leaders of the Communist party.
One more example of resistance in the Netherlands involved the story of Anne Frank. Anne Frank was a teenage girl whose family had taken refuge in Amsterdam from Germany before the war. When the Nazis invaded the Netherlands, her family, another family and a Jewish doctor went into hiding at her father’s office building. Anne wrote a diary that has become famous about her life in hiding. While they were in hiding, some very nice non-Jews helped them out for two years, getting them food, new books and even clothes.
Someone heard of their hiding and informed the Gestapo, who sent the Franks and everyone else hiding with them to concentration camps. Anne and her sister, Margot, later died in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp of typhus.
Denmark, France and the Netherlands were three of the many countries in Nazi governed Europe that helped the Jews. These three countries all had resistance groups that both fought against the Nazis and supported Jews. These resistance groups helped the Jews by aiding them, leading them to safe countries, hiding them or simply absorbing Jews into their program, so they too could help fight the Nazis. These three countries also had outstanding individuals who risked their lives to save other people. There were also the stories of those people who lives illustrate the difficulties that the Jewish people faced during those harsh times.
If I were in a similar situation, I would be part of a very large resistance group because the chances of being caught are less. I would also donate money to other groups or to people who need it because they are hiding or supporting Jews.
Another way I could help Jews would be to let them temporarily stop at my house for a night or two, if they are on their way to refuge in another country.
I would help any Jew that knocked on the door, until the situation became really bad for him, too, and he had to flee from Europe because he was also Jewish. But that’s a whole other story.
Isabelle Tasse
Milwaukee Jewish Day School
8th Grade
Division I
Unlikely Heroes
Sixty-nine righteous people have been recognized by Yad Vashem from a very unlikely country. That is more than have been recognized from Switzerland, Great Britain, and America combined. The unique thing about this country is that 82 percent of its people are Muslim. This country had the most Muslims who saved Jews from the Holocaust. When most people think of Muslims interacting with Jews, the thought is usually that such interaction is negative. It is, therefore, surprising that during World War II, thousands of innocent Jews were saved by Muslims from Albania, a small country between Greece and Italy.
Many Albanians threw themselves into the effort to save Jews. Even the Prime Minister, Medi Frasheri, found ways to stop what was going on. He was a member of a branch of Islam called Bektashi, the most liberal of Muslims and also very peaceful. Medi Frasheri refused to give up the names of Jews living in Albania to Nazi occupiers. He also organized an underground for all of the Bektashis to shelter Jews, both citizens and refugees. Since Albania was under Nazi occupation, the prime minister gave a secret order saying, “All Jewish children will sleep with your children, all will eat the same food, all will live as one family.” He had such a strong belief that Jews were exactly equal to everyone else. Not many people understood this concept at this point in history. A Bektashi summed up the entire idea of the religion with this quote: “We Bektashi see God everywhere, in everyone. God is in every pore and every cell, therefore we are all God’s children. There cannot be infidels. There cannot be discrimination. If one sees a good face, one is seeing the fact of God.” If every religion believed this; the world would not have had the Holocaust, there would be no conflict in the Arab countries of the Middle East and Israel; the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, and pograms would not have ever existed.
Not only the prime minister, but also the King of Albania made sure Albania would do as much as they could to save Jews. King Zog reigned during World War II. He had Jewish friends living in Vienna: the Weitzmans and the Oestereichers, who designed crown jewels for the royal family. King Zog issued around four hundred passports to Jews, mainly from Vienna. He also rescued his close friends from the concentration camps directly. After the war, King Zog met the Oestereichers who were in need of help financially. The king gave them the same crown that they had made him. This is a true example of “what goes around comes around.” I think it shows a lot about the country when the King personally rescued Jews, people whom much of the world thought as of subhuman.
While the royalty of Albania did a lot to save Jews, the citizens of Albania helped as well. Hysen Marika, who owned a famous dairy, had to travel for business a lot, and once, he met a Jewish family from Bulgaria. He hid them in his own house. They lived like part of the family. For part of the war, his wife thought they were just friends of Hysen’s. The neighbors never knew their real identity. The Germans often searched the house they lived in. When this happened, Hysen sent the family to a safe house. Once, the Germans found a briefcase that belonged to the Jewish family containing their personal information. The police took it to the headquarters, but Hysen Marika demanded that he get it back. The briefcase was returned unopened. This was the life or death situation. Hysen Marika fought for the family’s life. Now, only one of the family members is alive and he lives in Israel. Aferdita Marika, the daughter-in-law of Hysen Marika keeps in touch with him.
Another example is the story of how Barjam Golemi tells of how his father, the chairman of the Nationalist Party in Gjirokaster, a city near the Greek border, saved hundreds of Jews. He lived in Garosh, Albania. Knowing the Germans were coming to deport Jews, he made arrangements for hiding places in surrounding villages. At first, the Jews asked how much they would pay for a hiding place. He refused compensation. Eventually, the Jews of Varosh decided not to leave their homes. Instead of forcing them to, he set up a militia of non-Jews to protect them. He also had the villagers deny that there were any Jews living there at all. Like many other Albanians, Barjam and his father were members of Bektashi. Bektashi say, “If we find a spider in our home, we clean out the web, but do not kill the spider.” If they would not disturb an insect, they would not be able to destroy who were just like them, but with a different religion. Sadly, after the war, Barjam Golemi’s father was murdered by communists. Since the fall of communism, he has been recognized as a hero of resistance.
Many different types of people living in Albania risked their lives to help save Jews, whether it was the king, the prime minister, or a regular civilian. They issued passports, hid Jewish families in their own homes, and arranged hiding places in surrounding villages. They had so much courage, strength, and bravery to do the things they did. If I were put in a situation like the people of Albania were, I would try my best to save as many people as possible, but would be extremely careful not to get caught. I might plan to hide Jews with other people whom I live near to. My family is very important to me, and I would never want anything to happen to them. In this case, however, the people being persecuted would in a way become my family. I do not think I could live with myself knowing that if I had saved just one person, I could have saved a generation. If only the rest of Europe had had the same amount of respect for their fellow human beings, the ability to differentiate right from wrong, and the courage to stand up and act upon their feelings as the Albanians did during World War II, the Holocaust would never have claimed the lives of 6 million innocent people.
Livvie May
Homestead High School
11th Grade
Division II
In his beloved novel "Les Misérables," an examination of the law, morality, and human nature itself, French novelist Victor Hugo redefined the meaning of sacrifice, stating that to love another person is to see the fact of God” (Hugo). Though the book preceded the Second World War by nearly a century, the truth of its doctrine echoed with particular potency during the 1940s in light of the tragedy then consuming Germany and its European brethren: the massacre of millions of Jews now known as the Holocaust. Through the love they expressed in the offering of their help, homes, and hearts to those fleeing persecution, many from across the globe—often mere civilians—answered Hugo’s plea for compassion and humanity, meriting the title of Holocaust heroes. France, though often criticized for succumbing to Nazi reign after the German invasion in 1940, indeed held a number of such heroes in its midst throughout the war, resulting in the deliverance of thousands previously sentenced to interminable suffering or imminent death. Despite the often devastating consequences, these French individuals defied the Nazi regime through their rescue of Jews and other refugees and, in doing so, truly embodied heroism and all its implications.
The French town of Le Chambon, in particular, assumed the role of hero and guardian during the Holocaust, aiding Jewish refugees as a token of both compassion and solidarity. Centuries before the sparks of world tension ignited a second global war, ancestors of the town’s inhabitants, like the Jews, had faced persecution for their faith, escaping to Le Chambon to follow Protestantism “without fear of punishment…for [their] fidelity to the biblical principles that gave meaning to their lives” (Paragon). Throughout the years that followed, those basic tenets—faith, hope, and love, through both thought and deed—became the cornerstones of Le Chambon’s ideology, deeply embedded within the minds and hearts of the village people. When Chambon’s minister, André Trocmé, therefore, first discovered a Jewish refugee upon his doorstep during 1940, “there was no decision to make” (Paragon). Trocmé conscience, the memory of his forbearers’ struggles, and even the lessons of his own sermons had left him with a single choice: to accept this woman into his home, to offer refuge, both physical and spiritual, to any wandering soul whose path crossed his own, and to accept and embrace his newfound role of guardian and defender. As more Jews began to slowly trickle into Le Chambon in search of shelter, other villagers followed Trocmé’s lead, welcoming refugees—mainly children—into their homes. Even after the arrest of Trocmé himself, the movement in Le Chambon remained strong and, through the valor and resolution of its citizens, rescued approximately 5,000 people (“Le”). Their compassion in the face of Nazi hatred embodied the principles so valued in their community, answering the need for sacrifice and heroism in a nation torn apart by the devastation of war.
Like the village of Le Chambon, “party girl” Mary Jayne Gold challenged the laws and standards of Vichy France through her rescue of “some of Europe’s greatest…intellects,” employing the Emergency Rescue Committee centered in Marseilles and the aid of reporter Varian Fry to achieve her ends (Chesnoff). By “forg[ing] documents…creat[ing] clandestine escape routes…and offer[ing] aid to antifascist refugees,” Gold and Fry developed both a network of allies and a legion of enemies (“Varian”). Though common belief at the time would have dictated her gender to be an obstruction to her work, Gold’s gender, in fact, assisted her throughout her dealings, particularly “when someone had to charm the commander of a French prison camp into freeing four German members of the anti-Hitler underground” (Chesnoff). Ultimately, between both Gold and Fry, such activity “resulted in the rescue of some 2,000 persons, including such distinguished artists and intellectuals as Marc Chagall, Max Ernst, Franz Werfel, Lion Feuchtwanger, and Heinrich Man” (“Varian”). Therefore, the actions of the duo, carried out in spite the consequences they knew they would eventually face, exemplified daring and determination as well as heroism.
Even though the consequences for rescuing refugees ranged from imprisonment to death, I believe that I also would have helped Jews during the Holocaust. For years, my parents have instilled in me an understanding for the value of life, the recognition that any life—whether Christian or Jewish, American or European, Black or white, old or young—is too precious, too dignified to willingly surrender. The implications of such a lesson, though still important now, held particular significance during the Holocaust, when life was extinguished as quickly and mercilessly as the click of a trigger. In such a dire time, how could I have refused another human being—no, not just a Jew or Christian, but a person like me—the simple dignity of life itself? I know I have not the leadership abilities to coordinate the rescue activity of an entire village, like André Trocmé. I know I have not the shrewdness to operate a network of spies across the continent, like Mary Jayne Gold or Varian Fry. However, many, if not most, Holocaust heroes contributed to the rescue movement through much simpler means: hosting refugees within their homes. Through such an action, I hope I would have joined these legions of Holocaust rescuers, and, in doing so, have felt the joy of glimpsing a joy purer, more powerful than any earthly reward, of truly experiencing God in the way Hugo once expressed.
Though Holocaust rescuers varied in almost every aspect—region and religion, mission and method—nearly all agreed on a single reason for their decision to assist Jewish refugees: “There was no other choice” “(Oskar”). Through their sacrifices, these heroes provided a sliver of silver lining to the dark cloud of hatred we now know as the Holocaust and, in turn, inspired future generations to do the same. Trocmé’s wife, Magda, once expressed her hope that through her example, her posterity would “be able to think that there always have been people in the world who tried—who will try—to give hope, to give love, to give help to those who are in need, whatever the need is” and perhaps should the occasion arise, arouse the courage and tenacity to become catalysts for change in their own lives (Paragon). And, indeed, her vision has been realized. The eagerness of today’s youth to actively take part in their communities, to commit themselves to the betterment of modern society itself stems directly from the lessons taught through the adversity Trocmé, Gold, and other Holocaust rescuers faced. Therefore, the impact of the Holocaust has come to represent something beyond the horror of concentration camps, the moving tales of survivors, and the unspoken stories of millions who lives were cut short by the Nazis and their contagion of fear; it has instead, through the struggles of these heroes and the messages they have imparted to our current generation, become “a progress from evil to good, from injustice to justice, from falsehood to truth, from night to day, from appetite to conscience, from corruption to life; from bestiality to duty, from hell to heaven,” and even, through the love and sacrifice Hugo once defined so clearly and truly, “from nothingness to God” (Hugo).
Marty Kimmel
Homestead High School
11th Grade
Division II
Dimitar Peshev gazes out of his bedroom window. The Deputy Speaker of Parliament is tough, but what he is witnessing before his eyes is hard for him to even comprehend. Bulgarian security guards are placing his Jewish neighbors in cuffs a mere twenty yards from the bedroom’s windowsill. The crime of these men? Being Jewish. Even though Preshev publicly supports Bulgaria’s anti-Jewish legislation, he secretly despises the laws with a burning passion. For centuries, minorities have been commonplace in the country, but now that Hitler has a chokehold on the government, everything has changed. Sending some 20,000 Jews to the Treblinka death camp was Preshev’s last desire, yet if he did not support the transportation, he may very well have been sent there himself (Roth). The Speaker meets the horrified, confused eyes of one of the Jewish fathers down below. Looking away in disgust, agony, and humiliation, Dimitar Peshev knows that he must act quickly, boldly, and confidently. With the help of Parliament and his people, a seemingly unfathomable idea begins to stir: Can he and his peers prevent the thousands of Bulgarian Jews from being deported? An ambitious goal, yes; but the course Peshev takes in saving essentially every Bulgarian Jew reflects his courageousness and audacity, qualities I admire and hope will characterize my choices in life no matter how I am tested.
Sitting back down on his bed, Peshev ponders possible courses of action. At this point, the Deputy Speaker is nothing but a puppet of the Nazi regime. His own country, a now stably-rooted Axis power, favors passing legislation for shipping thousands of Jewish people away to Poland, a nearby country with dozens of death camps. The thought of the gas chambers makes him shudder, prompting him to rise and revisit the bedside window. The neighbors are gone. The day is March 9, 1943, the day that Dimitar Peshev transforms into a man on a mission.
The clock strikes high noon in Kyustendil, signaling the Parliament’s commencement. Peshev calls forward an urgent order of business, one that many other members listen to intently. After all, the majority of them secretly agree with his notions. Later that day, both the council members of Kyustendil and Parliament members meet with Peter Gabrovski, the Minister of the Interior (“Dimitar”). An ardent pro-fascist, Gabrovski wants no talk of eliminating the deportation of the Jews. However, after a valiant effort, the two groups finally persuade the Minister to call off the future deportation of Jews to Poland. A thrilled Peshev exits the building with his comrades, but in his heart he realizes that his work has just begun.
Bogdan Filov, the Bulgarian Prime Minister, sits before Dimitri Peshev and his 42 fellow supporters (“Dimitar”). The Prime Minister’s temper rises in correlation to the length of the speech. How dare a government worker speak on behalf of the Jews! Who does he think he is? Filov finds himself asking Parliament to remove this traitor, this dissident, this rebel from the position of Deputy Speaker. Days later, the proposition passes and Peshev is out of work. As the ex-Deputy Speaker reads the newspaper the following week, he finds himself attached to a piece of particularly horrific news. The deportation of Bulgaria’s Jews is back on schedule. All of Peshev’s work is seemingly wiped away in the blink of an eye. No, this can not be possible.
Fortunately, his efforts are not wasted. Protests to cancel the deportation spring up left and right, led mainly by fellow Parliament members. This is the first good sign of many. King Boris III could not hear the end of the constant protests. His most intelligent, hardworking people outwardly expressed their support of the Jews. Because of this, deporting Jews from Bulgaria did not seem possible without a major strike and protest occurring (“Beyond”). Reluctantly, and against Germany’s will, the Jews of Bulgaria were instead sent to work camps within Bulgaria instead of death camps in Poland (Roth). This news, coming only after a couple of months, thrills Peshev. Because of his belief and motivation to save his people, almost 48,000 Jews lives are saved.
For any student of the Holocaust, for any reader of history’s stories, comes the million dollar question: Would I have mimicked the actions of Peshev if I were placed in a similar situation? In reality, I would be lying if I undoubtedly asserted that I possess the courage to help a group of people at risk of my own life. I was fairly surprised to hear how involved Peshev was in the operation, and surprisingly, he was not jailed nor severely punished for his beliefs. Under his circumstances, it would have been much harder for me to come to the conclusion he came to in regards to preventing the deportation of the Jews. He had nothing to gain from the effort, only his reputation and livelihood to lose. The pressure to confirm to the views of his peers was enormous. Despite this, he sifted out the ones who were willing to publicly defy their country. Disregarding the fact that I am Jewish myself, it would be agonizing to see fellow neighbors, co-workers, and city folk getting wrongfully persecuted against. However, I may have strayed away from the fearless plan Peshev put into action. Peshev’s approach was extremely aggressive and risky. If things had not gone his way, the entire Jewish population could have been wiped out from Bulgaria. I both admire and support the Deputy Speaker’s motivation to right the wrongs of his country.
The Holocaust can never be forgotten. Peshev and his brave followers were one of the few rays of light that shone in this overcast time. I deeply admire the courage and determination put forth by them, and following in their footsteps, ones marked by courage and compassion, is a goal of mine. We all pray this situation will never arise again, yet it is hard to say whether one would really risk his life for others. Voltaire put it best, acknowledging that “with great power comes great responsibility.” With the resources at hand, Peshev and his colleagues made the most of their time in the spotlight of Bulgarian society. They did it for the Jews, as I hope I would have, but a more important message was conveyed by their actions: strength of a movement comes from the hearts of its participants, not from the amount of people involved.
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