Holocaust Remembrance Day 2024

In June of 1944, a group of Jewish prisoners, mostly Dutch nationals, was exchanged for German Templars who had been living in Palestine since the 1880s. At the beginning of the Second World war, the Templars, being citizens of an enemy country of Great Britain, came under suspicion and were imprisoned by the British in their settlements of Sarona and Wilhelma. These were mainly women and children, the men having long been deported to Australia.[1]

The German Colony in Jaffa, 1920-1920, IL-INL-YBZ-0045-163, Yechiel Zehavi Collection, Yad Ben-Zvi,YBZ.0045.163.

In addition to its role as a concentration camp, Bergen-Belsen was used as a transit camp (Austauschlager) where Jews were held as bargaining chips for the Nazi regime, to be exchanged for goods, foreign currency and German citizens imprisoned worldwide.[2] Out of seven lists of “exchange Jews” (Austauschjude) – citizens of countries not under German occupation, or those with connections that the Nazis saw as potentially useful in creating international pressure - the Germans compiled a limited list of 300 prisoners, holders of Palestinian papers, who were candidates for exchange for the Templars. The list was reduced to 271 prisoners who were then moved to the “Stars’ camp” (Sternlager), where conditions were slightly better, to prepare for their departure.[3]

The considerations in choosing the prisoners for the exchange remain ambiguous to this day. For 200 Dutch Jews, the impressive efforts of Miriam de Leeuw and the Dutch Immigrants Organisation in Palestine secured their spots on the list, having arranged for immigration certificates in advance.[4]  Eventually the list consisted mainly of women, children, and a few men over the age of 45, with the arbitrariness resulting in many personal tragedies. Such was the case of Marinus Kan and his wife, Frederika Godschlak-Kan, who refused to be released since their son, 14-year-old Daniel, was not on the list. Both parents perished in the camp in April 1945, while their son survived.[5] The negotiations between the Germans and the British lasted 18 months, and finally, on June 30th, 1944, 222 Jewish prisoners commenced their journey from Bergen-Belsen to freedom.[6]

Letter from the Red Cross in which the Jewish Agency informs Hermann and his family they have been registered on the exchange list, January 1944, The Netherlands Collection, Yad Vashem, Jerusalem.

That Friday morning, at 5am, the gates of Bergen-Belsen opened amidst much excitement and teary eyes. Simon Heinrich Herrmann, of those “exchange Jews“ chosen for the prisoners exchange, wrote about the journey in his book, Austauschlager Bergen-Belsen: Geschichte eines Austauschtransportes. He describes the strong impression left on him by the blossoming nature, unimpeded by barbed wire fences. After a two hours’ walk, the train station came into sight. There the train awaited, with its upholstered chairs, and the camp Kommandant himself came to make sure everyone was well taken care of. Reflecting on the long train ride, Simon writes: “Why am I sitting in this train? For a long time, it has been traveling at reduced speed. Maybe one of those infinite, shaky, sealed cattle car trains is before us, and in it, body squeezed against body, desperate humans travel towards their perdition: Jews, our brothers and sisters.”[7]

Stopping in Vienna for the night, Simon and his group of 222 Jews were led off the train. They were put in rooms with hot, running water, and were given real food, including coffee and cake. “We were almost under the impression that there was no difference between Jews and other humans.” [8] Soon, though, they were reminded again: in the courtyard lay hundreds of hungry, miserable human beings - these were Hungarian Jews, abducted from their homes, waiting to be transported to an uncertain fate.[9]

In Vienna, a group of some sixty Jews from Vittel, France, who had been under the protection of the Red Cross, joined the transport. Together they boarded a different train, one with sleeping cabins and two restaurant cars.[10] Simon was convinced that few of his fellow travelers had ever experienced such luxury. The restaurant car served dinner and cold beer, and the passengers were ordered to take off their yellow Jewish Star badges. At times the train stood still due to the frequent air strikes that echoed in the distance. Upon crossing the Bulgarian-Turkish border, the German officers changed into civilian clothes, and Simon describes how, at once, they lost all authority in his eyes.

Jewish police officer inspecting a Jewish Yellow Star on the luggage of a transportee, Haifa, 10 July 1944. In Chaya Brasz, Transport 222: Bergen-Belsen-Palestine, July 1944 (Jerusalem. Committee to commemorate the 1944 Bergen-Belsen exchange, 1994).

On the sixth day of their journey the group arrived in Istanbul, where they were transferred to the hands of the Jewish Agency. They boarded a chartered ship for the crossing of the Bosporus, where they were welcomed with chocolates, cigarettes and fruit from the “Promised Land.” A lavish dinner was served: only a week before all they had were a tin cup and a single spoon for their frugal meals, and now more than 5,500 pieces of China and silverware adorned their tables. Once the news arrived that the German prisoners’ transfer was completed, their journey continued.

Excitement reached its peak when the train crossed the border at Rosh HaNikra. On first encountering a Jewish settlement, overcome with emotion, the passengers started to sing the Jewish national anthem, Hatikvah – the Hope.

On July 10th the transport finally reached Haifa, where hundreds waited anxiously to welcome their loved ones, but many had to leave empty handed. “The face they were looking for was not there,” writes Simon. “What are 283 people compared to the nameless uncounted who were still in German camps or had been led to Poland.”[11]

Simon Heinrich Herrmann's Mandatory Palestinian identification card, The Netherlands Collection, Yad Vashem, Jerusalem.