The Shield of Memory – Articles from “Der Schild”, Journal of the Reich Federation of Jewish Front-Line Soldiers: April 3, 1936 – “Pesach Before Verdun”

Given the importance of Passover – Pesach – to the Jewish people, both as a discrete historical event and in terms of its perennial centrality in the arc of Jewish (and dare one say … indirectly world?) history, it’s only natural that this blog presents examples of Pesach observance by Jewish soldiers in a variety of historical settings, and, within the armed forces of different nations.  In that light, you can read about military Pesach observance in the following posts:

World War One

Soldiers of The Great War: Jewish Military Service in WW I, as Reported in l’Univers Israélite (The Jewish World) – Le Séder sur le Front (The Seder at The Front), April 9, 1915 (March 22, 2017)

World War Two

The Jews of Hawaii in World War Two: The Jewish Exponent, September 10, 1943 (November 10, 2022)

Pacific Pesach – The Guam Haggadah (parts one, two, three, four, and five (references).  (January, 2017)

Pesach with the Jewish Brigade: Italy – March, 1945 (May 24, 2018)

The commonality of these posts is obvious: They pertain to Pesach observance by Jewish servicemen specifically in the Allied armies in both wars.  While this is so by definition – alas, truly needing no explanation – in the Second World War, in the First World War (the ironically named “Great War”) Pesach was observed by Jewish soldiers serving in the militaries of both the Allies and Central Powers, among the latter most obviously and prominently Imperial Germany.  The latter is the topic of “this” post: Passover observance, specifically in terms of the Seder, amidst the horrific Battle of Verdun, during 1916.  This was the subject of former Feldrabbiner (Field Rabbi) Georg Salberger’s detailed reminiscence in Der Schild, which was published in April of 1936.  

As described at the Leo Baeck Institute – Edythe Griffinger Portal, “Georg Salzberger was born in Culm, West-Prussia (Chełmno, Poland) in 1882 and grew up in Erfurt, Germany, where his father Moritz Salzberger was the rabbi.  He studied at universities in Berlin and Heidelberg, and he was ordained rabbi at Hochschule für die Wissenschaft des Judentums in Berlin in 1909.  From 1910 to 1937, Salzberger was rabbi at the liberal Westend-Synagogue in Frankfurt am Main; he also lectured at the Philanthropin and other Jewish institutions.  After incarceration at Dachau, Salzberger emigrated to London, England, where he was co-founder of the German-speaking “New Liberal Jewish Congregation”.  Rabbi Dr. Georg Salzberger died in London in 1975.”

Here’s Rabbi Salzberger’s undated portrait from the Leo Baeck Institute: “Part of the Paul Arnsberg Collection, AR 7206; Accession Number F826.”  You can also view the portrait via the Center for Jewish History.  

As in my prior posts about Der Schild, this posts includes images of the article, followed by an English-language translation, and finally, the same article in the original German.  (Unfortunately, the final paragraph, illegible, is absent from this post.)  Both versions of the article close with Julius Rosenbaum’s sketch of the crowded Seder, which appeared on page seven of the March 13, 1936 issue of the newspaper – that issue (awaiting translation to English…) being almost entirely devoted to the service and experiences of German Jewish soldiers during the Battle of Verdun.  (Not that it mattered in the Germany of 1936, but anyway…) 

And so, the Seder of 1916 in the Deutsches Heer.  

Pesach Before Verdun
by Kam. Field Rabbi (ret.) Georg Salzberger, Frankfurt a.M.

The Shield
April 3, 1936

Number 14/15

“Oh, this night is certainly different from all other nights,
from those in our beloved homeland with father and mother,
with wife and child,
but also from the nights in the muddy trenches,
in the “bomb-proof” shelter,
at the forward post or during the assault.
War is outside, and here, for one night, there is peace.
Many a tear steals from their eye
when they hear the old melodies here
or when they see the long procession of their ancestors,
heroic, storm-hardened men and women,
pass by in the text of the Haggadah.”

Since February 21, 1916, the beginning of the great offensive, the cannons thundered day and night around the old, defiant fortress. In heroic attacks and counterattacks, the German positions had been pushed forward to the barrier forts: Fort Vaux had been taken after admirable resistance from the French garrison. The German Crown Prince had received its brave commander, a Jewish captain, as we were told, in his headquarters in Stenay on the Meuse and returned his sword to him as a sign of his appreciation. Troops of captured Frenchmen could be seen everywhere. But the hospitals also filled up. Hecatombs of flourishing people were sacrificed in the murderous battles of those days and months; hecatombs succumbed to their wounds behind the front despite the self-sacrificing care of doctors, medics and nurses. In some cases a relatively light injury was enough to cause death within a few days through the development of gas phlegmon.

I had asked the general doctor of the 5th Army, to which I was assigned as field rabbi, to telegraph me when Jewish wounded were brought to a field or military hospital or when Jewish casualties were to be buried. The request was granted wherever possible. I was constantly on the move: in a car, on a truck, on a horse-drawn cart, on foot. In Stenay, where I was based, in Carnigon, in Montmedy, in Longuyon and Pierrepont – to name just the large hospitals – everywhere it was necessary to seek out the wounded, to bring them gifts of love and spiritual support, to accept their wishes and to report back home on their behalf. It is impossible to describe all the torments, but also all the quiet heroism that took place in the houses and barracks. Of course there was no difference between Jew and non-Jew: not in the torments, and not in the heroism for the brave men who lay there in bed next to bed, not for the priest who went from bed to bed. For how many, any consolation and any help came too late! Now here, now there, we lowered a brave man into the foreign earth with the ever moving song of the good comrade; often there were many at once, wrapped in white sheets, whom we buried in the military grave, and then it was not uncommon for the priest or the rabbi to give the funeral oration for all of them.

Under such circumstances, it was not easy to prepare for the Passover celebration. I had obtained an army order from the AOK [Army Higher Command], according to which the Jewish officers and men of all units of the “Crown Prince’s Army”, as far as they were available, were to be sent on leave to Stenay on the first evening of the festival or to Longuyon on the second, in order to take part in the service and the subsequent “religious meal”. The reports came in far more than I had expected, and I was happy that my good boy had brought a hundredweight of ritual smoked meat, generously donated by my home community, from Frankfurt am Main, as well as sizeable packages of matzo and a crate of wine. The director’s office supplied potatoes and canned vegetables. The rooms for the Seder celebration had to be inspected and prepared in a hurry, the meat had to be cooked in a large kashered kettle, the potatoes had to be peeled, etc.

The first evening service gathered in the beautiful church in Stenay about 300 men who had come from the most varied regions, some from far away, through bottomless mud and at the risk of their lives, from the VI, VII and XXII: RK [Reserve Corps] and from the staging areas of Stenay, Dun and Mouzon. In the absence of a Hazzan – the one from the previous year had fallen – I had to take over the office of preacher. The sight of the church filled to the last seat when I then stepped up to the improvised pulpit was overwhelming. The value of memory was spoken of in the sermon, which is presented to us in the three main symbols of the Seder table! As usual, we ended with a prayer and the Kaddish, just as we had begun with the beautiful Dutch prayer of thanksgiving accompanied by the organ; its powerful ending: “Lord, set us free!” was still ringing in our ears when we went to the town’s market square after the tribunal to celebrate the “domestic celebration” together. Because of the large number of participants, we had to do it three times in a row. This meant that not only the meal, which was served from an anteroom, was a little short, but unfortunately also the Haggadah, although I did not fail to explain the signs and customs.

Officers and doctors, as well as 5 Jewish nurses from the nearby Inor epidemic hospital, took part in the first Seder. The second Seder was given by an old family father whose name I no longer remember, the third by the younger son of Rabbi Meyer from Regensburg: It was exactly “around the middle of the night” when the last guests left the room, who had certainly never seen such a strange group together before or since.

The next morning, in the same hall, the comrades who did not have to return to the front held a service among themselves. But I had to drive in the pouring rain, laden with matzo and wine and a mailbag full of Jewish newspapers and magazines in a small car that Major Vogt from the A.O.K. had granted me, via Montmedy and Charency to Longuyon. I unloaded at Levys’s (from Diedenhoefn) sutler’s. I had sent a large crate of matzo and two of canned fruit from Frankfurt by train. The platoon commander, Lt. Colonel V. Schott, who I spoke to, had approved 400 rations of meat and 8 hundredweight of potatoes. At around 7 a.m., around 300 men lined up on the square in front of the town hall. Lt. Sergeant Wanghenheim had them counted and marched to the cinema in four formations. Festively decorated and illuminated, it welcomes our congregation, which includes two officers, several doctors (one of them the late D. Jungmann from Breslau) and sisters from Pierrepont and Longuyon. This time our prayer leader is Hofsanger Platz, who has already performed excellently at the Yom Kippur service in Montmedy. Here I only need to be a rabbi: ancient, proud memories will become an experience for us today – experiences will become memories again, that was more or less the basic idea of my sermon. During a short break, wine and matzah are served, although of course there is only one bottle for one person and one matzah for two people. But there is not a symbol missing from the Seder plate in front of me. And even though everyone only drinks four sips of wine instead of the prescribed four cups, there is still a youngest person there (a member of the Israeli Religious Society in Frankfurt am Main) who asks Ma Nishstana. Oh, this night is certainly different from all other nights, from those in our beloved homeland with father and mother, with wife and child, but also from the nights in the muddy trenches, in the “bomb-proof” shelter, at the forward post or during the assault. War is outside, and here, for one night, there is peace. Many a tear steals from their eye when they hear the old melodies here or when they see the long procession of their ancestors, heroic, storm-hardened men and women, pass by in the text of the Haggadah. The fare is meager, and I cannot blame a humorous comrade for thinking that even the meat today is only symbolic: and yet they all join in with grateful hearts when Dr. S___andi says the grace before meals.

Meanwhile, in the cafe opposite, the 100 men who no longer had room with us had held their own service and Seder. The next morning we all met again in the cinema for a peaceful service with learning, haftorah and musaf. A Mater who experienced it has captured it in his picture. (This picture of the Mater, our Kam. Julius Rosenbaum [of] Berlin, was in No. 11, page 7, D. R.d.)

Pesach vor Verdun
von Kam. Feldrabbiner a.D. Georg Salzberger, Frankfurt a.M.

Der Schild
April 3, 1936

Nummer 14/15

Seit dem 21. Februar 1916, dem Beginn der grossen Offensive, donnerten Tag und Nacht die Kanonen um die alte trotzige Festung. In heldenmütigen Angriffen und Gegenangriffen waren die deutschen Stellungen bis zu den Sperrforts vorgeschoben worden: Fort Vaux war nach bewundernswertner Widerstand der französischen Besatzung genommen. Ihren tapferen Kommandanten, einen jüdischen Hauptmann, wie man uns erzählte, hatte der Deutsche Kronprinz in seinem Hauptquartier zu Stenay an der Maas empfangen und ihm zum Zeichen seiner Anerkennung den Degen zurückgegeben. Ueberall sah man Trupps von gefangenen Franzosen. Aber auch die Lazarette füllten sich. Hekatomben blühender Menschen wurden in den mörderischen Schlachten jener Tage und Monde geopfert, Hekatomben erlagen trotz aufopfernder Pflege von Aerzten, Sanitätern un7d Krankenschwestern hinter der Front ihren Verwundungen. Ost genügte eine verhältnismässing leichte Verletzung, um durch sich entwickelnde Gasphlegmone in wenigen Tagen den Tod herbeizufuhren.

Ich hatte den Generalarzt der 5. Armee, der ich als Feldrabbiner zugeteilt war, gebeten, dass ich telegraphisch verständigt würde, wenn in einen Feld- oder Kriegslazarette jüdische Verwundete eingeliefert wurden oder jüdische Gefallene zu bestatten waren. Nach Möglichkeit entsprach man der Bitte. Ich war ständig unterwegs: im Personenauto, auf Kraftlastwagen, auf Pferdefuhrwerken, zu Fuss. In Stenay, wo ich mein Standquartier hatte, in Carnigon, in Montmedy, in Longuyon und Pierrepont – um nur die grossen Lazarette zu nennen – überall galt es, Verwundete aufzusuchen, ihnen Liebesgaben zu bringen und seelische Aufrichtung, ihre Wünsche entgegen zu nehmen und für sie nach der Heimat zu berichten. Unmöglich, all die Qualen, aber auch all das stille Heldentum zu schildern, die sich in den Häusern und Baracken abspielten. Natürlich gas es de zwischen Jude und Nichtjude keinen Unterschied: nicht in der Qual, und nicht im Heldentum für die Braven, die dort Bett an Bett lagen, nicht für den Geistlichen, der von Bett zu Bette ging. Bei wievielen kam jeder Trost und jede Hilfe zu spät! Bald da, bald dort senkten wir mit dem immer wieder ergreifenden Liede vom guten Kameraden einen Braven in die fremde Erde, oft waren es viele auf einmal, die wir in weisse Laken gehüllt im Waffengrab begruben und dann kam es nicht selten vor, dass der Pfarrer oder der Rabbiner ihnen insgesamt die Grabrede hielt.

Unter solchen Umständen war es nicht leicht, für die Pessachfeier zu rüsten. Ich hatte heim AOK [Armeeoberkommando], einen Armeebefehl erwirkt, wonach die jüdischen Offiziere und Mannschaften aller Truppenteile der „Kronprinzen-Armee“, soweit sir irgend abkömmlich waren, zum 1. Abend des Festes nach Stenay oder zum 2. Nach Longuyon zu beurlauben seien, um am Gottesdienst und am anschliessenden „religiösen Mahl“ teilzunehmen. Weit zahlreicher, als ich erwartet hatte, liefen die Meldungen ein, und ich war glücklich, dass mein braver Bursche einen Zentner rituelles Rauchfleisch, das meine Heimatgemeinde grosszügig gestiftet, aus Frankfurt am Main gebracht hatte, dazu ansehnliche Pakete Mazzen und eine Kiste Wein. Kartoffeln und Gemüsekonserven lieferte die Intendantur. In Eile mussten die Räume für die Seder-Feier besichtigt und hergerichtet, das Fleisch in einem grossen gekascherten Kessel gekocht, die Kartoffeln geschält werden ufw.

Der erste Abendgottesdienst versammelte in der schönen Kirche zu Stenay annahernd 300 Mann, die aus den verschiedensten Gegenden, teilweise von weit her, durch grundlosen Schlamme und unter Lebensgefahr, vom VI, VII und XXII: RK [Reserve-Korps] und aus den Etappenorten Stenay. Dun und Mouzon gekommen waren. In Ermangelung eines Chasen – der vom vorigen Jahr war gefallen – musste ich das Amt eines Barbeters übernehmen. Ueber wältigend der Anblick des bis auf den letzten. Platz gefüllten Gotteshauses, als ich dann an die improvisierte Kanzel trat. Von dem Wert der Erinnerung sprach in der Predigt, die in den drei Hauptsymbolen der Seder-Tafel uns entgegen tritt! Wie zumeist schlossen wir mit einem Gebet und dem Kaddisch, wie wir mit dem schönen Niederländischen Dankgebet unter Orgelbegleitung begonnen hatten; sein kraftvoller Ausklang: „Herr, mach uns frei!“ lag uns noch im Ohr, als wir uns nach dem Tribunal auf den Marktplatz des Fleckens begaben, um dort zusammen die „häusliche Feier“ zu begehen. Wegen der Fülte der Teilnehmer mussten wir es dreimal nacheinander tun. Dadurch kam nicht nur das Mahl etwas zu kurz, das von einem Vorraum, aus serviert wurde, sondern leider auch die Haggada, obwohl ich es an Erklärungen der Zeichen und Bräuche nicht fehlen liess.

Am ersten Seder nahmen Offiziere und Aerzte, auch 5 jüdische Krankenschwestern aus dem nahen Seuchenlazarett Inor teil. Den zweiten Seder gab ein alter Familienvater, dessen Namen ich nicht mehr weiss, den dritten der jüngere Sohn des Rabbiners Meyer aus Regensburg: Es war genau „um die Mitte der Nacht,“ als der letzten Gäste den Raum verliessen, de gewiss weder vor noch nachher eine so merkwürdige Gesellschaft beisammen gesehen hat.

Am anderen Morgen hielten im gleichen Saal die Kameraden, die nicht gleich zur Front zurück mussten, unter sich einen Gottesdienst ab. Ich aber musste, beladen mit Mazzen und Wein und einem Postsack voll jüdischer Zeitungen und Zeitschriften in einem Klein-Auto, das mir Major Vogt vom AOK bewilligte, bei strömendem Regen über Montmedy und Charency nach Longuyon fahren. In der Marketenderei von Levys (aus Diedenhoefn) lud ich ab. Eine grosse Kiste mit Mazzen und zwei mit Obstkonserven aus Frankfurt hatte ich per Bahn vorangeschickt. Etappen-Kommandant Oberstltn. V. Schott, bei dem ich vorgesprochen, hatte 400 Rationen Fleisch und 8 Zentner Kartoffeln bewilligt. Gegen 7 Uhr treten auf dem Platz vor dem Rathaus etwa 300 Mann an. Feldwebel-Ltn. Wanghenheim lässt abzählen und in 4 Gliedern zum Kino marschieren. Festlich geschmückt und beleuchtet empfängt es unsere Gemeinde, unter der sich auch 2 Offiziere, mehrere Aerzte (einer von ihnen der inzwischen verstorbene D. Jungmann aus Breslau) und Schwestern aus Pierrepont und Longuyon befinden. Diesmal ist unser Vorbeter Hofsänger Platz, der sich bereits beim Yom-Kippur-Gottesdienst in Montmedy hervorragend bewährt hat. Hier brauche ich nur Rabbiner zu sein: Uralte stolze Erinnerung wird uns heute zum Erlebnis – Erlebnis wird wieder zur Erinnerung werden, das etwa war der Grundgedanke meiner Predigt. Während einer kurzen Pause werden Wein und Mazzen gereicht, wobei freilich nur 1 Flasche auf 1 Mann und 1 Mazze auf 2 Mann kommt. Aber auf der Sederschüssel vor mir fehlt kein Symbol. Und wenn auch jeder statt der vorgeschriebenen 4 Becher nur 4 Schluck Wein trinkt, so ist doch ein Jüngster da (Mitglied der Isr. Religionsgesellschaft im Frankfurt a. M.), der ma nischstanno fragt. O., diese Nacht unterscheidet sich allerdings von allen andern Nächten, von denen in der lieben Heimat bei Vater und Mutter, bei Weib und Kind, aber auch von den Nachten in den schlammigen Schützengraben, im „bombensicheren“ Unterstand, auf vorgeschobenem Posten oder beim Sturmangriff. Kriegs ist draussen, und hier für eine Nacht Frieden. Manchem stiehlt sich eine Träne aus dem Auge, wenn er die alten Melodien hier vernimmt oder in langem Zuge die Geschlechter seiner Ahnen, heldenhafter, sturmerprobter Männer und Frauen im Texte der Haggada an sich vorüberziehen steht. Schmal ist die Kost, und ich kann es einem humorvollen Kameraden nicht verargen, wenn er meint, auch das Fleisch sei wohl heute nur symbolisch geboten: und doch stimmen sie alle aus dankbaren Herzen ein, als Dr. S___andi das Tischgebetspricht.

Im Cafe gegenüber haben inzwischen die 100 Mann, die bei uns nicht mehr Platz fanden, ihren eigenen Gottesdienst und Seder gehalten. Am nächsten Morgen finden wir alle uns noch einmal im Kino zu friedlicher And____ mit Leienen, Haftoro und Mussaph zusammen Ein Mater, der sie miterlebt, hat sie im Bilde, sein gehalten. (Dieses Bild des Maters, unseres Kam. Julius Rosenbaum Berlin, war in Nr. 11, Seite 7, D. R.d.)

Here’s an overview of how to access Der Schild at Goethe University, excerpted from my post “Infantry Against Tanks: A German Jewish Soldier at Cambrai, November, 1917“, of September 9, 2017.  (It certainly seems to have come in handy, just over seven years later!)

“Stories and depictions of World War One combat, composed both during and after the “Great War”, are abundantly available in print and on the web. 

“A fascinating source of such accounts – but even moreso a source particularly; poignantly ironic – is the newspaper Der Schild, which was published by the association of German-Jewish war veterans, the “Reichsbundes Jüdischer Frontsoldaten”, from January of 1922 through late 1938, the latter date paralleling the disbandment of the RjF.  Der Schild is available as 35mm microfilm at the Dorot Jewish Division of the New York Public Library, and in digital format through Goethe University Frankfurt am Main.  

“The screen-shot below shows the Goethe University’s catalog entry for Der Schild, which allows for immediate and direct access of the library’s holdings of the newspaper.  All years of the publication, with the exception of 1924, are available; all as PDFs. 

“Of equal (greater?!) importance, accessing digital holdings is as simple as it is intuitive (and easy, too!)  In effect and intent, this is a very well designed website!  This is shown through this screen-shot, presenting holdings of Der Schild for 1933. 

“The total digitized holdings of Der Schild in the Goethe University’s collection comprise approximately 530 issues.  “Gaps” do exist, with 1922 comprising only four issues (9, 10, 13, and 14) and 1923 comprising three issues (14, 15, and 17).  However, holdings for all years commencing with 1925 are – I believe – complete, through the final issue (number 44, published November 4, 1938).

“Not unexpectedly, Der Schild’s content sheds fascinating and retrospectively haunting light on Jewish life in Germany during the 1920s and 1930s; on Jewish genealogy; on the military service of German Jews (not only in the First World War but the Franco-Prussian War as well), often focusing on Jewish religious services at “the Front”, rather than “combat”, per se (see the issue of April 3, 1936, with its cover article “Pesach vor Verdun”); on occasion about Jewish military service in the Allied nations during “The Great War”(1); on Jewish history, literature, and religion; on Jewish life and Jewish news outside of Germany.

“There is much to be explored.”

References

Bund jüdischer Soldaten (YouTube Channel)

Der Schild (digital version) (at Goethe University Frankfurt website)

Reichsbund jüdischer Frontsoldaten (at Wikipedia)

Vaterländischer Bund jüdischer Frontsoldaten (Patriotic Union of Jewish Front-Line Soldiers”) 

Soldiers from New York: Jewish Soldiers in The New York Times, in World War Two: Navigating Survival: 2 Lt. Milton W. Stern, United States Army Air Force – Evasion in Belgium, March-July, 1944

2 Lt. Milton Wallace Stern, a navigator in the 532nd Bomb Squadron of the 381st Bomb Group, was shot down on March 8, 1944, during the 8th Air Force’s mission to the ball-bearing works at Erkner, a town on the southeastern edge of Berlin.  Parachuting to earth with his nine fellow crewmen, he evaded capture until May 27, 1944, when he was apprehended by the Gestapo.  Temporarily interned with his fellow evadees in Saint Leonard Prison, Liege, Belgium, he was eventually imprisoned at Stalag Luft I, and like all his fellow crew members, survived the war.

You can read an extensive and detailed (and extensive) account of his wartime experiences, along with excerpts of an interview I conducted with him in 1993 here, in the post Soldiers from New York: Jewish Soldiers in The New York Times, in World War Two: March 8, 1944 (In the Air…) – Navigating Survival: Milton W. Stern.

“This” post, however, is an French-to-English translation of an account of Milton’s temporary evasion from German capture, written by Philippe Connart, Michel Dricot, Edouard Renière, and Victor Schutters, from The Comet Network, which was last updated on June 24, 2022.

But first, some introductory photographs…  

~~~~~~~~~~

Milton wartime portrait.

Milton at his home in northern new Jersey, photographed October 21, 1993.  (From a 35mm Kodachrome slide.)

~~~~~~~~~~

Here begins the translation of the story from The Comet Network:

Boeing B-17G-25-DL Flying Fortress, serial number 42-38029, VE-M

Shot down by an Me109 fighter during a mission to Erkner, near Berlin, on 8 March 1944
Crashed around 16:00 at 11 Bathmenseweg in Oude Molen (Lettele), 1 km from the road from Deventer to Holten, (Overijssel) Netherlands
Duration of evasion: 2 ½ months
Arrested: Liège, 27 May 1944

Additional information:

MACR 3002 Crew Loss Report.

RAMP [Recovered American Military Personnel] Report signed on May 31, 1945.

The B-17, on its first mission, took off from Ridgewell and was hit by flak as it approached Berlin.  The No. 1 fuel tank was on fire and the aircraft was reported as having been seen with its bomb bays open and the No. 3 engine feathered.  The belly gunner confirmed this, adding that the No. 4 engine had lost pressure and that the B-17 had lost contact with the rest of the formation.  The MACR reported it as last seen south of Berlin, turning back to return to base.  According to Sgt. Kinney, belly gunner, the aircraft was then attacked by three German fighters, one of which was shot down by a gunner on board the B-17, one of the other two giving it the coup de grâce.

Lt.  Pirtle’s Crew

Standing, left to right:
George W. Cassody, mechanic; James W. Warren, right gunner; James C. Estep Jr., left gunner; Robert W. Burrows, radio operator; William L. Bull, rear gunner; William C. Kinney, belly gunner.

Front, left to right:
pilot Thomas A.  Pirtle; his regular co-pilot (name unknown, who was not aboard 42-38029 on the mission and had been replaced by Paul Schlintz); Milton W. Stern, navigator; and Harry F. Cooper, bombardier.

Positions and names determined by James Warren in December 2016.

The Fortress losing too much altitude, the pilot, 2nd Lt Thomas A.  Pirtle, gave the order to evacuate it as it approached Deventer in the Netherlands.  Pilot Pirtle broke his leg landing in a field and was immediately taken prisoner.  His co-pilot 2nd Lt Paul H. Schlintz, managed to escape, helped by Dutch and Belgian Resistance fighters, but was denounced and arrested on June 16 in Antwerp, where he was interned in the Begijnenstraat Prison before being sent to a camp in Germany.  Bombardier 2nd Lt Harry F. Cooper and ventral gunner Sgt William C. Kinney, having landed near Laren, about 15 km southeast of the crash site, were the only ones to succeed in their escape.  Cooper was released in early September in Liège and returned to England on 15 September 1944 (Escape Report E&E 2110).  Kinney, who had also gone to Belgium, remained hidden in the Neeroeteren region of Belgian Limburg and was released on 22 September by troops of the 4th Canadian Armoured Brigade (returned to England on 24 September 1944 – E&E 2272).

All jumped from an altitude of less than 300 meters.  In addition to Milton Stern, James Warren, Robert Burrows, George Cassody, James Estep and William Bull initially managed to escape before being arrested.

Milton Stern lands in a tree and is quickly surrounded by a crowd of civilians.  He is advised not to stay there, as German soldiers are probably looking for him.  The civilians take care to hide his parachute and Stern first heads towards the column of smoke which he believes indicates the place where his plane crashed.  Changing his mind, he prefers to move away from it and goes to hide in a nearby ditch.

Shortly afterwards, a young Dutchman named JANSEN helped him hide in a haystack in the middle of a field.  The young man returned around 9:00 p.m. with bread, coffee and golf trousers.  In his haste, he forgot to give Stern the coat that was meant for him, which remained in the second pannier of the bike.  JANSEN told him that he had to stay hidden there for a few days while the Germans continued to look for him.

The next morning (March 9), after a very cold night, Stern starts walking along a watercourse (presumably the Overijssels-Kanaal), towards Belgium.  In the evening, he approaches a farm where he is given something to eat.  The farmer’s son sets off on his bike and brings back another young man, Don, who speaks very good English.  After questioning Stern for a few minutes, Don picks him up on his bike and takes him to Deventer, where he is installed in the room that Don was renting there.  Don goes to see another contact and returns around 23:00, informing Stern that he should stay hidden there for a few days, adding, however, that the landlady of the place was afraid of the consequences.

So it was that the next day at dawn (March 10), Stern accompanied Don back to the farm.  He was given blankets and took shelter in the barn.  The farmer’s 13-year-old daughter brought him breakfast and a basin of hot water to soak his feet in.  He remained in his shelter until the morning of Saturday, March 11.

Don reappears, Stern is given the farmer’s son’s bicycle and they ride together towards Deventer.  They arrive at a house where Stern meets three other Americans: S/Sgt. Maurice Hargrove, Walter Kendall and John Zolner.

A new guide, “Pierre”, gives them railway tickets and the airmen head towards the station, each following the other at a certain distance.  On the train, they split into groups of two, and into different compartments.  They had been advised to play deaf and mute in case of questioning.  They get off at Echt station, near the Belgian border, where they meet men who take them home.

At 8:00 p.m., after eating, shaving and washing, they set off for Maastricht in a car that also included two Frenchmen who had escaped from a prison camp.  In Maastricht, under a full moon and with German sentries patrolling the border area, they crossed the Meuse in a small boat.  In his RAMP report, Stern only states that he made the crossing on March 11 in the company of a Dutch policeman living in Echt, with whom he had stayed…

On the other side, in Belgium, a farmer, André, is waiting for them to walk them to his farm.  The journey takes them about two hours.  They stay on this farm for six days, hidden during the day in a barn, at night in a room in the main building.

On the fifth day, around March 16, another guide, Jules, arrived with five of Stern’s teammates: Burrows, Bull, Cassody, Estep and Warren.  The airmen were informed that they were to be evacuated, two at a time, by small plane.  It was decided that Stern and Burrows, who had sprained his ankle while landing, would leave first, so that Burrows could be treated quickly.  The group was taken that night to a manor that belonged to a French nobleman, an airman during the 14-18 war.  [This was “La Clairière” in Rekem-Lanaken, owned at the time by Stéphane de Bissy and Germaine Moreau de Bellaing] They slept in a small wood at the back in a shelter built underground and hidden by branches.  There they met two Yugoslavs who had also escaped from a camp: Stretsko Pajantitch, a pilot officer, and Voja Jovanovitch, a bombardier/mechanic.

The next day, Saturday 18 March, “they” (we assume that this is just Stern and Burrows, as reports and accounts often use “we” without further details…) are taken to Hasselt by tram by the daughter of the owner of the manor, Monique de BISSY, 21, who takes them to 17 Thonissenlaan to the home of Florent BIERNAUX and his wife Olympe, née DOBY.  This is where they can take their first hot bath.  They are served a real meal and given Belgian identity cards.

On Monday 20 March at 5:00 in the morning, “they” (Stern and Burrows alone) were driven to the station by Mrs. BIERNAUX, who accompanied them to Liège where a man and a woman were to meet them.  As this couple did not show up, Mrs. BIERNAUX made a few phone calls before leading the group to a café.  The couple finally arrived an hour later and Mrs. BIERNAUX said goodbye to them.  The group, led by their new guides, walked for two hours through the streets of Liège, trying to avoid German patrols.  They even had to hide for 45 minutes in a church to escape soldiers who were apparently following them.  They finally arrived at a large house, which turned out to be the headquarters of the local resistance.  It was there that they were separated from the two Yugoslavs whom they would never see again.  They were introduced to “Joseph”, the head of the network, and Stern and Burrows were taken to another house where they had supper.  This “Joseph”, Stern does not specify, is in fact Joseph DRION from Liège, head of the DRION Group which organizes the accommodation and travel of escaped airmen in the Liège region.

Later that evening, the daughter of the house, Flora, drives Stern and Burrows to another house across town.  They are the guests of an elderly couple who will put them up for “about two weeks.”

One evening, Flora came to tell them that they could be evacuated to Switzerland in the following days.  In the meantime, she took them to Grâce-Berleur, where they were housed by two ladies, both aged 75, one widowed, the other single, who looked after them “very carefully”.  The plan to have them go to Switzerland fell through, as one of the two planned guides was tired from his previous expedition, the other was ill.  [The activity report of the Joseph DRION Group, from Liège, also mentions that Stern and Burrows were handed over by Miss Monique de BISSY to Léon CHRISTIAENS, 58 Rue du Hoyoux in Herstal-Liège.]

They then stayed with another family in Grâce-Berleur.  Stern believes he remembers that the father made and sold ice cream and that he had two daughters, Jeanine, about 15 years old and Victorine, 19 years old.  Stern’s RAMP report specifies that these were the VAN LESSENs in Grâce-Berleur, with whom he stayed for 3 weeks in April 1944… [The list of Belgian Helpers includes Georges VAN LESSEN and Marie MATRICHE at 13 Rue de l’Hôtel Communal, which is in fact on the territory of Grâce-Hollogne, very close to Grâce-Berleur.]  He does not mention Burrows in this part of his report, but his teammate also stayed there, for 2 weeks.

On April 20, Stern and Burrows were taken back to Liège itself, where they stayed in a large abandoned building, which appeared to them to have been an inn or a hotel: there were 25 to 30 rooms, on three or four floors.  The concierge, “small and charming”, served them good meals, which they ate in the company of a lieutenant in the Belgian Army, living in Namur, who was also hiding from the Germans.  One day, during a roundup, the three escapees had to hide in an attic where they heard the little lady joking with the German soldiers in order to divert their attention.  During their stay, Liège suffered its first bombing (on May 1), the target being the railway installations.  Having seen the approach of the B-24s from the top of their room on the top floor, they ran down the stairs to take refuge in the cellar.  Several other bombings on the city during this month of May delay the continuation of their trip and Stern, unable to bear it any longer, asks to meet “Joseph” (DRION) at his headquarters.  It is there that Stern and Burrows see their other teammates again as well as two other American airmen: 2nd Lt. George G. Wedd Jr. and Sgt. Floyd A. Franchini, respectively co-pilot and gunner on board the B-17 42-39801 (94th Bomb Group / 332nd Bomb Squadron) shot down on March 4, 1944.  [B-17G, “XM * B”, “Double Trouble II” / “NORTHERN QUEEN”, Pilot 2 Lt. Julius O. Blake, 10 crew members, 9 survivors; MACR 2978, Lufgaukommando Report KU 1063]  They will also be arrested in Liège on May 27.

It was decided that Wedd, Franchini, Burrows and Stern would leave by train for Switzerland early the next morning.  Unfortunately, a new bombing raid in the evening and the destruction of railway lines and bridges made this journey impossible.  A landing on the Channel coast seemed imminent, so they resigned themselves and decided to wait for their release.  In his RAMP report, Stern mentions that during April and May 1944, it was “Mr. MONNICE”, from Liège, who served as his guide in his movements from hiding place to hiding place.  [The list of Belgian Helpers includes Maurice MONISSE at 24 Rue des Airs in Liège.]

On May 11, a man, Joseph “Gophard” (Stern’s RAMP report mentions Joseph Goffard), led Stern and Burrows to another hiding place, at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Jean and Virginie TITS and their two children, Dorine, 16, and Joseph, 17 or 18.  Their house, at 38 Rue des Anglais, surrounded by a psychiatric institution, a hospital, and a long wall, was located on the same hill as the Citadel of Liège.  Out of sight, Stern and Burrows were able to enjoy the large garden with the children.

Around May 20, the two airmen were warned of the arrival of a German patrol searching the houses in the neighborhood.  Frans CAUBERGH, who worked at the neighboring asylum, brought them to his workplace and ordered them to act crazy like the other residents.  They acted very well because the patrol noticed nothing and left the establishment after its search.

On the morning of Saturday 27 May 1944, Stern was awakened at the TITS by noises on the floor below and heard footsteps running in the stairwell.  German soldiers burst into his room and he was arrested.  Amid shouts of “Jew!  Jew!  Jew!”, he was hit on the head and face and collapsed.  Afterwards, he was allowed to get dressed and was pushed down the stairs to find Burrows on the ground floor where he was chained with him to a radiator.  The Gestapo also arrested Mrs. TITS and her two children, Jean TITS, her husband, having managed to escape by jumping over a wall.  (Stern would visit him in Liège in May 1945 after his release).  Burrows’ RAMP report mentions that these arrests were due to a denunciation by a person whose name he has forgotten [it must be Antoine Everts, from Montegnée-lez-Liège, Belgian traitor and agent of the GFP – Geheime Feld Polizei] and who had brought the Gestapo to this address].  Milton Stern’s RAMP report, however, indicates that it was Joseph Goffard, mentioned above, who arrived at the TITS with the Gestapo 2 weeks after his arrival at their place; that this Goffard was very well treated in the Liège Prison where he was with him and that this man received additional food rations and was not beaten like others in the members of the DRION Group also interned there.  Stern indicates that Joseph DRION, head of the organization, was arrested at the same time as him.  This does not mean at the same place.  The activity report of the DRION Group mentions the arrest on the same day of Jean and Virginie TITS.

Driven by truck to a Gestapo headquarters in Liège, Stern and Burrows met other airmen there: Bull, Cassody, Estep and Warren from their crew, as well as Wedd and Franchini mentioned above.  Also there were two American airmen they had not yet met: Captain Gerald D. Binks (Command Pilot of B-17 42-30280 shot down on February 21, 1944) and Lt. Everett G. Ehrman (pilot of B-24 42-52175 shot down on March 8, 1944).  Denounced by a double agent, “Joseph” (Joseph DRION) and about fifty men and women from his network were also there.  The traitor had told the Germans that Stern was Jewish and he was not spared by his torturers: unlike his fellow prisoners, Stern was not allowed to sit on a bench, but was chained for twelve hours to a radiator in the waiting room of the building, beaten from time to time on the head and shoulders and made to endure verbal attacks related to his status as a “Jew”.

The airmen were taken to the Saint Léonard prison, where Bull, Cassody, Estep, Wedd and Stern found themselves in the same cell.  On Tuesday 30 May, they were separated and each of them was placed in a cell with 3 or 4 Belgian patriots.  Confined in this small space, sleeping on the floor, generally poorly fed, except once a week when the meal prepared by the “Winter Rescue” arrived.  The Germans could no longer stand the insults of one of the prisoners in the cell, the resistance fighter Roger VAN EVERCOREN, about 25 years old, so they took him away one day for interrogation.  When they brought him back, he was unconscious after having been whipped and beaten and could not move or speak for two days.

Around 3:00 a.m. on June 6, Stern and nine other Americans and 200 to 300 Belgians were transferred by truck from the Saint Leonard prison to the Citadel of Liège, the place where the Germans usually executed resistance fighters.  Fortunately, they were not shot, but simply separated from each other.  Stern was put in solitary confinement in the cellars where he remained for 30 days, living only on bread and water, sleeping on the stone floor of his cell, questioned several times to find out how and by whom he had been brought from Holten to Liège.

On July 15, 1944, the day of his 21st birthday, fourteen Belgian patriots, including a priest, Father André, were shot in the courtyard of the Citadel.  Stern was brought to this courtyard and threatened with the same fate if he did not reveal the identity of his helpers.  He said nothing and five days later (July 20) he and his fellow airmen were informed that they were going to be transferred to a prisoner of war camp in Germany.

On July 21 they passed through the Luftwaffe headquarters in Brussels where they stayed for a few days before beginning their journey to the Luftwaffe interrogation center in Oberursel near Frankfurt.

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Here’s an image of a fragment of Milton’s POW Personalkarte, the image at one time available via the Library of Congress Veteran’s Project.

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Stern was then interned at Stalag Luft 1 in Barth, where he arrived on July 29, 1944.

On January 18, 1945, Stern and other Jewish airmen were transferred from the camp’s North 2 Compound to the “Jewish Barracks” (Block 111, Room 16) in Section North 1.  Stalag Luft 1 was liberated by Russian troops on May 1, 1945, and, like the other American prisoners, Stern was flown first to France, then to England, and finally returned by ship to the United States.

Curiously, he is mentioned on an EVA list in February 44…