1936
Erika Rosenkranz
With mother in Vienna
B. 1927/ Merchant

1938 Fled with family to France
1938-42 Exile in Southern France
1942-45 Escaped to Switzerland

My family was fully integrated into Austrian society, although we were absolute Zionists. In fact, my parents originally wanted to emigrate to Palestine as early as 1936. But my grandmother put her foot down. Too bad, since we would have been spared the entire ordeal that awaited us.

After we fled from Austria, we would as a rule pack up and lug around the family photographs with us. What was the reason for this? I don’t know why we shlepped them along—I suppose we wanted to keep our identity close at hand, always there.

1937 Georg Eisler
Studio Portrait, Moscow
B. 1928/ Painter

1936-38 Resided in Moscow
1938-46 Escaped with mother to Prague and later England

I was living in Moscow with my mother in 1937. On our way back to Vienna in March of 1938, we were greeted by an anonymous telegram in Prague: ‘Do not travel to Vienna—imminent danger.’ The next day Hitler and his troops marched into Vienna.

Being on the run with my mother—constantly chased from one country to another—I fled with my photographs. You do not throw a thing like that away. A photograph is a kind of document — an emotional document

1938 Mona Lisa Steiner
Taken in Lower Austria
B. 1915/ Botanist

1939 Fled with a visa to Japan and later to the Philippines
1939-56 Exile in the Philippines

After the Anschluss, when I learned I was barred from completing my doctorate, I sought comfort at the park. Then, nearby at the Japanese Embassy, I saw people lined up to purchase ship tickets to Japan. A light went off in my head: I wanted to leave, too!

This photograph was taken in the summer before I left Austria. Later in Manila, the Japanese reduced our home—and photographs—to ashes. My mother, who managed to survive the war years in Vienna, kept this photograph safely with her.

1939 Willy Stern
Studio portrait, Vienna
B. 1920/ Surgeon

1938 Endeavored to emigrate
1939-45 Survived in Vienna working at the Viennese Jewish Federation

In 1939, the Jewish Federation offered me a job. Emigration for Jews then became more difficult; the Gestapo ordered our offices to establish inventories of Jewish assets. We didn’t know—nor could we have known—that the Gestapo would later employ these lists for the deportation of Vienna’s Jews.

The reason this photograph was taken: We thought that emigration would tear apart our family. It was my mother’s favorite photograph of me. What does it bring to mind now? My, was I a handsome kid. Makes you realize just how quickly the time passes.

1940 Josefine Malina
Studio portrait, Vienna
B. 1914/ Homemaker

1939 Deportation of Jewish husband
1941-42 Imprisoned for contact with POWs
1945 Husband never returned

My husband was selected for the first transport to Nisko, Poland. Supposedly, he’d be resettled and I’d follow him. Sometime later, Albert wrote and told me how the Nazis had chased him over to the Soviet-occupied zone of Poland. And at that point, our correspondence came to a halt.

I sent my husband a copy of this photograph to show him my longing and my concern. Whether he ever received it, I’ll never know. Today, every photograph I could save from the war years is a particular reference point representing a significant part of my life.

1941 Franz Burda
Studio portrait, Vienna
B. 1919/ Insurance Salesman

1939-43 Served in the German Army
1943-47 Deserted to hand top-secret documents to the Soviets; POW

On R&R, I secretly began working in the Resistance. By 1942, the battle to take Stalingrad raged on. Our group took the opportunity to begin building an armed resistance with the Allies. I was chosen to establish contact with the Soviets.

This photograph was one I had taken to leave with my family. As a soldier, I couldn’t be sure when or if I would return from the front. It’s important, as it illustrates the fact that there were Austrians who really did oppose the war.

1942 Harry Turkof
Taken in Vienna
B. 1923/ Dentist

1938-43 Survived in Vienna
1944-47 Served in the Turkish Army

When I was extradited to Turkey—which saved my life—my parents packed my childhood photographs along in my suitcase to always remember them by. I kept everything I could from the war to remind me: I endured—I beat them!

During the war, I must admit I was crazy; dressing like a Hitler Youth member; Sitting on a park bench or in a movie; all activities banned for Jews. I would greet people in a shop: ‘Heil Hitler!’ But I could not have hid in a room hoping the war would be over soon.

1943 Max Uri
Taken in Vienna
B. 1921/ Furrier

1939 Escaped alone to Palestine
1941-1946 Served in the British Army and its Jewish Brigade

Over the years, I held on to this photograph. It reminds me how emigration saved my life. Moreover, I never suffered or felt abandoned, as did so many other emigrants who fled their native country. I always had a sense that I was looked after, and not alone.

I fought in Egypt in 1943. Then the Jewish Brigade was founded and instructed to serve in Italy. Somehow, the Germans found out and broadcast on the radio: ‘We sunk those Jews’ ships.’ In Tel Aviv, our wives heard this and became frantic until we could contact them and explain the situation.

1944 Edith Radnai
With family in Budapest
B. 1924/ Businesswoman

1938-44 Lived in hiding in Budapest
1944-45 Survived in Budapest in a Swiss Safe House.

My parents destroyed every picture that associated us with Vienna, so there aren’t any photographs from when I was little. In this portrait, we all look quite depressed. And yet—forced to wear the Star of David—how could we appear as if we were happy?

Afraid that Hungary would expel us, we lived in hiding in Budapest until the Germans occupied it in 1944. Then, all Jews had to wear a yellow star. Nationality was of no concern. It was only by a twist of fate that the Jews of Budapest escaped being deported to Auschwitz.

1945 Antonie Lehr
Taken in Buchenstuben, Lower Austria
B. 1907/ Businesswoman

1938-44 Fought in the French Resistance
1944-45 Deported to Ravensbrueck and Auschwitz Concentration Camp

Upon liberation, I had no photographs to my name. During my work with the French Resistance, any documentation that could potentially identify me, I shredded. In this picture, I am recuperating after returning back to Vienna.

At Ravensbrueck, a prisoner came to warn me: the Gestapo had plans to execute me the next day. The Resistance at the camp came to my aid and hid me under the assumed identity of a French prisoner. The Gestapo searched for me, but Toni Lehr had vanished!

1946 Erich Ehlers
Studio Portrait, Vienna
B. 1940/ Furrier

1940 Born in hiding
1940-1945 Family survived undetected in a Vienna building cellar.

While we were in hiding, neither my parents nor anyone else photographed us children. This picture, one of the first taken after the war, was for a membership card for the Vienna chapter of people hidden during the war.

When my family came out of hiding in 1945, on paper, the children didn’t exist. As a result, my father had to prove in court that we really were his children. Then in 1947, ironically, only after we were circumcised were we at last officially recognized as Jews.

1947 Paul Grosz
Taken in Vienna
B. 1925/ Furrier

1938-44 Subsisted in Vienna as a slave laborer in a munitions factory
1944-45 Survived in hiding

No family photographs exist from during the war. Only the Nazis photographed us—Jews—for identification purposes. This photograph was taken at the birthday party of a favorite cousin, who, like me, also survived the war years in Vienna.

After the war, newspapers were so full of propaganda that we gradually began to believe the Holocaust had been some sort of freak accident in history that would never happen again. But the euphoria didn’t last long. By 1947 it became clear: What had happened wasn’t an accident.