metro
Doctors visit Germany to celebrate with family of woman who saved
their father during World War II.
I
Constance York
Special to the Jewish News
W
hen physicians Abe and John
Slaim, of Bloomfield Township
and Farmington Hills respec-
tively, traveled to Germany for a wedding in
August, they weren't just honoring the bride,
Stefanie Zeitler, with their presence. The doc-
tors, who have a family practice in Taylor,
were honoring Stefanie's great-grandmother
Anna Zeitler, the woman who saved their
father's life.
Their father, Josef Szlamkiewicz, (their last
name was changed after they immigrated
to the United States) suffered, but survived
for six years in various concentration camps
during World War II.
He was first arrested at age 27 when he
was in the Polish Army.
He managed to stay with two brothers
and a cousin, as he was sent from one labor
camp to another — six in all. One brother, he
learned, was later sent to Dachau.
He never found out what became of the
rest of his family. He was left to assume they
had been murdered by the Nazis like 6 mil-
lion others had been.
Abe and his brother, John, who is a mem-
ber of Temple Israel in West Bloomfield, say
Holocaust survivors either speak of their
ordeal — or not. Their mother never said
much about what she endured; their father,
however, would share his stories of the war
with them.
"If the oceans were made of ink, there
wouldn't be enough to tell the stories:' he
would say.
He told them of remaining confident that
one day he would be free again. In the pres-
ence of evil, day in and day out for so many
years, somehow he had maintained hope.
"Someday I'll be free he would say.
And while some people survived by sheer
luck, Abe believes his father survived due
to many factors besides luck — a will to
survive, determination, intelligence, skills he
possessed, and the knowledge that if he died
he wouldn't be there to save others.
He was a problem solver and a strategic
soldier who would find ways to be useful:
to keep his brother and cousin close; to be
moved from one camp to another rather
than be killed. He would see who they need-
ed for work and be that person — book-
keeper, translator, go-between.
But as the war was nearing its end, and
the Russians were getting closer and taking
control of camps, the Nazis tried to preserve
12 January 24 • 2013
The barn where Josef and his brother hid during
World War II
The Zeitler home in Germany,
where Josef Szlamkiewicz and
his brother were kept hidden and
cared for by Anna Zeitler.
Abe (third from right) and John (right) Slaim celebrate Stefanie Zietler's
wedding with family in Tribendorf, Germany.
their war effort by moving the people in the
labor camps on foot to more interior camps,
deeper inside Germany.
These became known as the "death
marches" and were their own method of
extermination. Josef and one brother were
sent on a death march. His other brother and
cousin were sent to Dachau.
And it would be the closest Josef would
come to death in his six years of captivity. In
January, it was bitter cold and they slept in
fields. Many died during the marches, from
the elements, illness or starvation. Those
who were too weak to walk were shot by the
guards.
Sometimes they were locked into barns
overnight. One night during one of those
stays, Josef and his brother were sleeping in
the lofts and Josef loosened the planks of the
barns and escaped. His brother didn't want to
go, afraid he would be shot. But once Josef's
plan worked, his brother and others followed.
The guards chased and captured many of
them. But alone in the dark forest, Josef was
able to overtake a guard, kill him and take
his uniform. He used the opportunity to res-
cue his brother and others.
He and his brothers eventually ended up
at the farmhouse of Anna Zeitler. They pre-
tended to be an officer and a prisoner who
had become separated from the rest of their
group. It was the second home where they
tried to use the story. The first one had sent
for the police.
Zeitler fed them and let them rest, but
after a time she told them: "I know you're not
a German officer. I know you are brothers:'
At that point, my father's will just gave up
and he said, 'Yes, call the police; do whatever
you want,- Abe said.
She told them she wouldn't do that. She
instructed them to pretend to leave town, but
to circle back after dark and stay in her barn.
They stayed there for about four weeks, until
the war came to an end. Zeitler would feed
them, bathe them, protect them — not even
telling her own husband they were there.
Zeitler had sons in the German army. One
had been killed and one had been captured.
The brothers said Zeitler treated Josef and
his brother the way she would have wanted
someone to care for her sons.
She had not thought it was a big deal to do
what she did, they said, and it had been an
easy decision for her.
The family stayed close for many years,
even owning a shirt factory nearby for a
while, but the families lost touch after the
deaths of Anna and Josef.
In 1995, Abe, John, their mother and
their uncle went back to Germany and to
the Zeitler home. The Zeitlers still owned
the property. One Zeitler son was still living
there, and the barn was still standing. They
renewed their family ties and interviewed
them as part of their recorded family history.
That history is why Abe and John felt the
need to attend the wedding of Anna's great-
granddaughter, Stefanie Zeitler.
The doctors say the tie they feel to the
Zeitlers is a strong one. And even though
Anna Zeitler is long passed away, they still
feel connected to her and her family.
Abe shows off family photos in his office
of their children and grandchildren. "None
of these people would be here if it wasn't for
her," he said.
❑
This story first appeared in the News-Herald
in Downriver Metro Detroit. It is reprinted here
courtesy of Heritage Media-Eastern Region.