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.