Transylvanian Rhapsody

By George Joseph

This collection of short stories contain memories from the life of the author as a child during the Holocaust years in Romania.
A group of other short stories relates to his life as a medical student and young physician.
The historical background of these is the nightmarish years of the Orwellian, corrupt, dictatorship of the communist regime in Romania.
Another story tells the life of a German woman who chooses to share her fate and life with the Jewish family she comes to work for before and during the Holocaust.
Friendship, loyalty, decency, and love make hope triumph.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jun 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466935822

George Joseph

George Joseph, MD, a survivor of the Holocaust in Romania, practiced medicine in Romania ,Israel, and South Africa. He was in private practice in Washington, DC, and after he retired from private practice, he worked at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center. He is an associate clinical professor of psychiatry at the George Washington University Medical School. He is a published author, polyglot, gourmet cook, and traveler. He is married, has three married children and five grandchildren.

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© Copyright 2012 George Joseph.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4669-3581-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-3583-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-3582-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012908792

Trafford rev. 06/14/2012

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Contents

Introduction

The Typewriter

The Cigarette

The Kreutzer Sonata

Letter To My Father

Emily

The Hospital

Departure

INTRODUCTION

The subjects in the first part of these short stories come from the memories of the author as an eleven-year-old child. At that time, during the Second World War, most of Europe’s countries with their famous capitals were under the occupation of Nazi Germany, including Paris, Prague, Oslo, Copenhagen, Warsaw, and many others. The German Army was knocking at the gates of Moscow and Cairo.

The lives and the fate of the Jews who lived in these countries, occupied by or allied to Germany, depended on the organized, murderous policy of Nazi Germany. Many facts are known today, many memorials have been erected, and many museums have been built in memory of this catastrophe. Much has been written, with hundreds of miles of shelf space occupied with books published on this subject. I hope the reader has some familiarity with it.

The killings and the torture had been going on for years when the eleven-year-old was touched by the events of this book.

The years 1941 and 1942 marked when Romania claimed its place and its role in the history of annihilation of the Jewish people. Transylvania, the scene of these stories, was divided between Romania and Hungary as a result of a pact ordered by the Nazi regime of Germany. The geographical region where the events of the Romanian Holocaust were playing out was in the territories close to the borders with the Soviet Union. Brasov, the city the author lived in, was in the southeastern corner of Transylvania, far from the front lines and miraculously spared the violent fate of the more than three hundred thousand Jewish victims of the Romanian Holocaust.

The hero looks at history with a child’s eyes, records events, and asks questions without getting answers. Childhood can be robbed from a child in more than one way. I learned too early that things are not simple. My life was spared. I became a psychiatrist and have tried to understand people’s ability to behave in a hateful, murderous manner.

I do not want to forget or avoid thanking God. I do not have enough faith to be able to answer these questions: Why did he spare me? Where was he for those who did not make it?

The second part of the stories relates to my life as a medical student and a young physician. By that time, the Second World War was over, and Romania was under the influence and practical control of the Soviet Union. The omnipresent danger and the consequences for being a Jew ended, but that was replaced by a new form of abusive discrimination.

The Communists invented a new social order called enemy of the people. The hero belonged to a family of merchants. The members of this group were declared the class enemy. The stories relate to this new period of diabolic discriminations and Orwellian nightmares.

I would like to thank those who have loved and helped me. I remember and love them.

—George Joseph (Potomac, Maryland, 2012)

THE TYPEWRITER

Winter 1940, Brasov

It was late December, and the school’s winter vacation had started a couple of days ago. A week before, it snowed, but the snow melted and the city looked dark and drab, the trees without leaves, the sky gray. The first snow of the year caught the children still in their classes. During recess, they took advantage of the snow, and snowball fights erupted in many corners of the schoolyard. Then the snow melted, and everybody was disappointed.

The Second World War was going on already for more than a year. Almost all of Europe was under German occupation by now. Europe’s capitals were flying the Nazi flag. Brasov, a midsize city in the Carpathian Mountains, a tourist and economic center of Romania with a sizable German Saxon population, became a garrison of the German Army, a result of the newly formed military and political alliance. This fact imbued the local Saxon population with a great sense of importance, lending them a sense of power that was expressed in more than one way. The Nazi flags were flying from many buildings, and many of the locals were wearing the black uniforms of the Nazi Party.

One of the large buildings on the main street was the Nazi Party headquarters.The city had a mixed population of Romanians, Hungarians, Saxons and a mall minority of Jews who lived in the town too,

Their life was restricted in more ways than one. They were forbidden to travel and restricted in their professional and business activities. The school-age children were not allowed to attend public schools.

German businesses were displaying posters announcing that Jews and dogs were not desired on their premises. Jewish businesses were required to carry posters stating that the shop was owned by a KIKE. This was the atmosphere on a Saturday afternoon when a snowstorm hit the city. In a short while, life started to come to a standstill.

The two Jozsef brothers, Andrew and George, were excitedly running every moment they could spare to look out the window of their home and watch the snow fall. As it was getting dark, a streetlamp was the perfect backdrop to ascertain that the storm was continuing in its fury. They were watching as the snow was falling and accumulating on top of a ledge, and they both tried to guess how deep the snow was becoming. They were anticipating that the deep snow would provide plenty of opportunity for play and fun the next day.

The next day was Sunday. Early morning, the two brothers were at the window. The wind had stopped, and the sky was clear. The bushes, the fence, and the stairs leading out to the street in front of their house were hardly visible. They were admiring the branches of a large fir tree in front of one of their windows, the branches bent by the weight of the snow.

For the people of the city, lots of snow was a familiar sight, but for the two brothers, the storm with the heavy snowfall was a novelty. They were both exited and restless and showed little interest in their breakfast food.

Every Sunday during the school year, the brothers met friends and went for hikes and this Sunday would not be different. Their friend Erwin would soon arrive or they would meet somewhere in the city. The frequent rains, and the snowfalls taught them to master the obstacles, and they were prepared to face the weather. The thought of walking in the deep snow made the Sunday morning look very exciting indeed.

Erwin arrived and was smiling very proudly for having made it on time and was describing excitedly how deep the snow was and how the traffic in the city was affected. The meager bus and car traffic was at a standstill. Only the sleighs drawn by horses were to be seen.

Soon the three boys were on their way. Erwin was telling them that walking on Monastery Street he saw a lot of policemen, which was unexpected for a Sunday morning, but he did not know why and did not stop to inquire either. Nobody knew it then that offices of a German Nazi organization was broken into during the night before, and the commotion Erwin witnessed on his way to meet with his friends was a result of this.

When the three friends got to the entrance of the park, they decided to brave the deep snow and walk through the alleys untouched under the fresh white cover. They could hardly see the bushes that lined the alleys but now lay buried under the deep snow. In addition to the bushes, the wider alleys were lined with a row of benches, now hardly visible.

The three boys were making slow progress in their attempt to cross on the opposite side of the park, as they were sinking in the deep snow to their hips at every step. Their faces were red, and they were giggling and throwing snowballs at each other. At one moment, Erwin threw up his arms, screamed, and threw himself on a bench, pretending that he wanted to sit down and rest. As he sank down on the seat, the snow covered him from both his sides like armrests of a comfortable easy chair. He was fidgeting in his seat when he noticed something