Zdenka Novak
1919-2003
Memories from WWII
My mother, Zdenka,was born in Zagreb, Croatia in 1919 and died in Israel in 2003. She was a teenager when the skies started darkening in Europe and she experienced tragic losses and hardships. This presentation is dedicated to her memory and is divided to four parts.
Part 1: Childhood and marriage
Ilica, the main street of Zagreb where my mother was born and raised:
Picture of Zagreb from the hill
Zdenka’s parents Lavoslav and Elsa
Zdenka’s parents, my maternal grandmother and grandfather, were named Elsa and Lavoslav. My mother’s father Lavoslav served as an officer in the Austro-Hungarian Army
in World War I . You can see the medals in the picture.
My mother’s grandmother, Grosa
Zdenka’s grandmother from her father’s side, Grosa, lived with her family at the same apartment in Zagreb. In this picture my mother Zdenka is kissing her grandmother Grosa. As Zdenka writes,
“Grosa was the nanny who taught us songs and prayers, told stories whenever we asked, every day she brought us something from the market; for the smallest present we jumped on her lap and covered her with kisses….”
Privileged childhood
My mother’s childhood and adolescence period was very happy and harmonious. In addition to school, Zdenka had private tutors and learned 7 languages. My mother was extremely sheltered and protected by her father. At the same time, there was strict discipline and order in the house, characteristics that later helped her survive the war.
Zdenka and Mira
Zdenka’s younger sister Mira was born when Zdenka was 3 years old. Zdenka and Mira were very different in personality but loved each other deeply. My mom writes:
“Mira was courageous and loved every sport, while I was a ‘coward.’ … While Mira enjoyed a more active life I found pleasure in books. For hours she played with her dolls, talking to them - she had one favorite, calling her Mira whom she treated like her real baby, behaving like a loving mother - the doll was pale and wasted from Mira's kisses. This kind of expression revealed her warm and affectionate nature.”
Jewish School
My mother started attending non-Jewish elementary school but attended it only for one day, because the Catholic teacher made everyone pray to Jesus and use the cross. She was taken out by her parents and enrolled in a Jewish school. The high school she attended later was not Jewish, and her best friend Olga was Catholic.
Part 2: Europe skies darken
Rumors about concentration camps started to spread quite early, yet few regarded them seriously, let alone made any connection or inferences about their own circumstances or future; that was the case even after the first Concentration Camp (Dachau, right) started in 1933, when my mom, Zdenka, was just 14 years old.
Invasion of Austria
My mom graduated from high school in the summer of 1938. In the same year, Hitler invaded Austria, and later Czechoslovakia. Austria was annexed into the German Third Reich on 12 March 1938 when my mom was 19 years old. Europe skies darkened.
Selling of Czechoslovakia
On September 30, 1938, four of the main powers of Europe, including France, England, and Italy, signed the Munich Pact with Germany, which sealed the fate of Czechoslovakia, annexing significant portions of the country over to Germany in the name of peace (this turned out to be a failed appeasement).
Paris and the new boyfriend, Fritz
As tension in Europe intensified, my mother continued her normal life. She was preparing to go to Paris to study, and two months before, she met a young man named Fritz and fell in love:
“From that first moment we were mutually attracted. After that evening at the opera watching Boris Dodunov – Mussorgsky was Fritz’s favorite composer – we met daily… We had so much in common: music, literature, politics, philosophy, psychology, so many ideas to be exchanged, so many problems to be discussed.”
Studying at the Sorbonne
In 1939, when my mom was 19, her father sent her to Paris to study. Here is a picture of the flat where she lived. My mom writes:
“My father rented a suitable room for me, in the Quartier Latin (Gay Lussac, 30) at Madame Martin's, a widow who was subletting rooms to students.”
Marriage Proposal
While Zdenka was in Paris, she continued corresponding with Fritz, her boyfriend:
“Obviously, I enjoyed my stay in Paris. Could I have only shared all these excitements with Fritz! I wrote him long letters, describing every detail, while my letter-box was filled with pages and pages of his reports. The distance brought us closer than we ever were before, an inner affinity existed between us, a mutual understanding which accelerated our decision to marry. I shall never forget the letter in which Fritz proposed to me; he was extremely shy and did not dare to be outspoken. He wrote: 'I burst with joy thinking you might become my w...’”
September 1939: War is Declared
England and France thought they could appease Hitler through the Munich Pact but this was an “absurd illusion” as Zdenka put it. On September 1, 1939, Germany attacked Poland, and on September 3, England and France declared war on Germany. My mother was in Paris at the time and her father was in NYC for business. He flew to Paris and took Zdenka back to home to Zagreb through Italy.
“When we passed through Italy, some Jewish families from Romania were detained and not permitted to return home; to them and to us this seemed a disaster. Alas! We did not realize then how lucky they were; they were free to go anywhere. At that time this was the most tragic scene I had ever witnessed; how many, much worse were to follow!”
Engagement and Marriage
My mother was back in Zagreb, trying to maintain a normal life. She and Fritz got married on 2 September 1940, honeymooned on the Adriatic coast, and lived together with Fritz’s parents while Zdenka studied and Fritz worked for my grandfather’s business. My mom writes:
“My father wanted to rent us an apartment but I was not ready for the role of housewife; I wanted to finish my studies. We decided to live with Fritz’s parents, while we had our meals with my parents. Everyone was happy with these arrangements; I did not have to worry about housekeeping, nor about money; Fritz was in my father’s business. We had everything we needed except foresight.”
Zdenka and Fritz
Wedding Gift
Part 2: War and Destruction
The Axis powers (Italy, Germany and Japan) invaded Yugoslavia on April 6, 1941.
The Fall of Yugoslavia
Hitler’s forces started attacking Belgrade, bombing revengefully, non-stop, from April 6 - 8, 1941, making the big city into a confused mass with 17,000 people lying dead. A few days later ground forces invaded Yugoslavia that included Zagreb (my Mom’s hometown).
Belgrade following the German’s attack in April 1941
The start of my mom’s darkest days
My mother had to burn all the hundreds of precious books that she and her husband had collected.
My mother’s life is destroyed
A short time after the invasion of German troops, Zdenka’s sister Mira and her mother Elsa were taken to the Yugoslav island of Pag. Mira was raped and both Mira and Elsa were killed. Zdenka’s husband Fritz was taken through that island to a cave where thousands were thrown to their deaths, alive. My grandfather was taken to Jasenovac concentration camp and died there. Out of her entire family, only my mother Zdenka survived.
My mother did not want to know what happened and did not write clearly about it in her book, but I learned the details of their fates in 2005.
Zdenka’s sister Mira
Mira was three years younger than my mom. She was much more sophisticated and adventurous. There was a strong bond between the sisters. Mira had a non-Jewish boyfriend. He told her about the plans of the Ustasas to kill all the Jews and Serbs and begged Mira to leave Zagreb with him, but Mira father convinced his daughters to stay until he could arrange for flights and sufficient means for a long-term stay abroad. It was Mira who was raped and murdered by the Ustasa. My mother, Zdenka survived, with haunting memories.
The house in Pag
This is a house in Pag that the Ustasa took over and used as a base in the region (the home was originally owned by a family of Serbs, whom the Ustasa targeted and killed en masse alongside Jews). Mira (and her mother Elsa) was raped and killed in this house along with many other young Serbian and Jewish women who were transported by the Ustasa to Pag for execution.
The House in Pag Now
Metajna on the island of Pag, peaceful village of farmers and fishermen , it became in the summer of 1941 , the atrium of death for interned women and children .
In this very house is now renovated as a school for local children.
Inside View of the House
In my recent visit to Metajna in June 2015 I was able to enter into the house and take a picture of the bay from inside the house.
The “dorms” of Pag
Fritz, my mother’s husband, lived in these “dorms” for prisoners in Pag for some time before he was transported and taken to his death.
Picture by the Cave
My wife Haya and I visited the cave in Pag in 2006 where Mira and Elsa were killed.
The island of Pag
Scene from the island of Pag
This is the place on the island of Pag where dead bodies of the prisoners were thrown to the water after they were killed.
Peaceful fishing village
Fritz died on the way from the island Pag to the cave, in this fishing village.
Jasenovac Concentration Camp
This is a picture of Jasenovac Concentration camp, not far from Zagreb, where my grandfather (Zdenka’s father, Lavoslav) died.
My mother hiding in Susak (Rijeka)
My mother lived in Susak for about 2 years. The place was under Italian occupation, which was not as severe in its practices as the Germans or the Ustasa. Zdenka worked in secrecy for the underground resistance (Partisan) movement.
Part 3: Zdenka’s survival
My mother managed to escape in a train to Susak (called Rijeka) that was ruled by the Italians. She hid in Susak for two years with the help of family friends.
Refusing to Eat
In her mind my mother kept thinking of her family, refusing to believe that they died and starving herself to relate to what she imagined of their existence:
“I was haunted by the idea that they [her family] had nothing to eat. I thought, if they are deprived of food, why should I eat? And so I gradually ceased eating, reaching a stage of self-destruction, torturing myself with fasting for seventy two hours or more, with one or two sweets in my mouth and at the same time taking endless walks or swimming long distances, with sleepless nights - reading until the small hours - so that I soon reached the weight of an underfed child. During all these years I weighed 34-36 kilograms.” (75-79 lbs)
The human side of a detective
My mom lived in a small rented room in Susakk (Rijeka) and produced leaflets for the underground resistance Partisan movement: I kept a small printing machine - spirograf - in my drawer and whenever I received new material from a party member I copied the propaganda leaflets and delivered them to a certain address at a certain time.
One day she was caught: Suddenly I was overtaken by a man who asked me to follow him. 'Signora, venite con me' ('Miss, come with me'). First I thought he was joking, a flirt, but when he repeated the sentence in a louder voice I suspected that my last hour has come.
But the human side of the Italian soldiers saved her: In my room especially a detective looked over every item, each piece of paper, cards, letters, photos; indeed he examined the photos so carefully that at the end he started to enjoy them, smiling at some, asking benevolently whom and what they represented. This was so very much a characteristic of the Italians, in particular with women….. The next day two detectives indeed came to take me to the police station for a short inquiry, as they told me. I asked for a favour: Could they arrange the investigation to take place in my house as I was too ill to come with them.
�Amazingly, they did not insist and left, never to return.
Leaving Susak
On 8 September 1943, Italy surrendered to the American forces and the Germans took over Rijeka. This led my mom to escape and join the Partisans underground. She spent about two years with the Partisans in the forests of Croatia serving as a translator. Zdenka kept thinking that she would be united with her family and continued to starve herself.
Escaping with the Partisans
My mom writes:
I started my journey to reach the Partisans who were stationed near Crikvenica, some thirty five (22 miles) kilometres away from Susak. There was no other way to reach them but to walk. In normal circumstances nobody would undertake such a 'Promenade', although it is a beautiful country along the Adriatic coast with the many little bays and curves - but not in times of war! The day seemed endless, no vehicles, no people on the way, only gunfire and from time to time, shells flying over my head.
At dusk when I arrived at Crikvenica, I was tired and exhausted but happy to have reached my destination. Crikvenica, a formerly fashionable resort, was crowded; men and women in uniforms circulated busily in the streets. The Allies delivered all kinds of equipment to the Partisans, mostly by parachute…. After a few days they had to move because German forces were close by.
Crikvenica
Then >
< Now
Moving through the forest
My mom writes:
The coastal front was not yet strong enough to hold against the Germans, and Crikvenica was soon abandoned. We, the partisans moved to the forest. This was my first move. It was always unwelcome surprise. Everything movable was packed in a hurry, thrown on lorries, cars, motorcycles, karts, whatever vehicles were available, and off we went. There was the entire office apparatus: hundreds of files, kitchen utensils, blankets, reserve supply of uniforms, military array, even some furniture such as desks, tables and chairs.�
Survival in the woods
My mother spent about two years with the Partisans in the forests of Croatia. Since she knew many languages she was helpful to the Partisan secret service translation team, helping decipher codes and then translate the communications that the Germans transmitted over the radio.
Living in abandoned farm huts
While traveling with the Partisans my mother often stayed overnight in abandoned farm stables that the Partisans would take command of. She writes:
“Here I made the acquaintance' of those hateful little creatures who, during the time I stayed with the Partisans, remained my unwished 'companions'. A girl noticed a louse sliding down my forehead right on to my cheek; it was disgusting indeed. It was also quite an event because among our group I was nicknamed 'fino dete' ('noble child'). With all my 'leftist' ideas I was and remained perceived as a 'bourgeois‘”
The Escape
The next 5 slides describe the last chapter of this story. The Partisans had to disperse as the Germans focused their attacks against this underground movement in the spring of 1944. My mother found herself walking for several days and nights until she ran into her in-laws, completely by chance and good luck, in a remote village. Zdenka lived with her in-laws for a few months while continuing to work for the Partisans until the end of 1944. Eventually she left with the Partisans for the southern Croatian coast where she was able to rest at a monastery that the Partisans had taken over in Brac, an island outside of Split. After the war ended in May 1945, Zdenka returned to Zagreb, where she met and married my father (Zvonko), a lawyer who had also lost his spouse in the war. I was born in Israel after Zdenka and Zvonko left Zagreb.
Cooling their feet
In May 1944, the Germans intensified the attacks on the Partisans. Everyone had to disperse, and my mom escaped with two other girls from her group until they found a small stream and could cool their aching feet during their escape. My mom writes:
“Oh, the country was beautiful; nature had recently awakened from its long Winter sleep, the soft green colour everywhere was so refreshing, birds twittered on the trees - but who cared, who had time to enjoy it?”
Sleeping on the floor
At the end of the first day of their escape, the three young women arrived near an inhabited area that was under the Partisan movement’s control. They hoped to rest but had to abandon the place and continue walking in the woods. My mom along with hundreds of other Partisans, walked through the night. At dawn they arrived at a village and a school was assigned to my mom where she was able to finally sleep on the floor.
Second day of walking
After miles of walking, my mother reached a village called Dvar (Current picture on the right from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drvar).
After a few hours of sleep they had to move again and this time abandon all she had in her backpack (a uniform to change, shirts, underwear, more shoes, a warm military coat and a blanket), except a tiny red suitcase, which was her bag from that time until the end of the war.
Day 3: Reuniting with Fritz’s parents
My mom walked with four other Partisans for another day through the woods, and when the third evening approached and she nearly collapsed, she decided to stay in a village nearby while the other Partisans she was with continued walking. A miracle happened that evening; in the village where she stopped, she ran into Fritz’s parents (who had become refugees-nomans). Zdenka decided to stay with them and they lived together for the next few months. Later Zdenka decided to rejoin the Partisans. Fritz’s parents’ picture (taken years later, in 1959) is on the right.
Living with in-Laws
My mother lived with her in laws for a few months (summer 1943). My mom slept with her mother in law on one bed. The father slept on a wooden plank placed between two chairs. My mom writes:
“The two other corners were occupied by the farmers' family; in one the grandmother slept with her grandson, in the other, the young couple. The kitchen was in the fourth comer; the sheep slept in the narrow entrance. The toilet was outside - a hole in the earth closed in from four sides by planks with a wooden square board above. The whole construction was so shaky that a strong gust could blow it down.”
Part 4: Life after the war
My mother eventually left her parents in law to go with the Partisans to the southern coast of Croatia where she was able to recuperate at a monastery for a few months. After the war ended, Zdenka returned to Zagreb (in the second half of May,1945) where she started building a new life. She met a man, Zvonko, 14 years older, who was also a Holocaust survivor and who, like Zdenka, had also lost his spouse in the war. Zdenka retained Zvonko as her lawyer to help manage the assets her father had left for her overseas, and in 1946 they married. In November 1948 they emigrated to Israel. I was born a few months later.
It was a small orange grove, that my mother’s father bought as a Bat Mitzvah gift for Mira, my mother’s sister, which provided the livelihood for my family, in Israel.
Zdenka & Dani
My mother’s new life in Israel
My mother built a meaningful and rich life in Israel, though the painful memories of her past never went away. Zdenka was never able to share her feelings openly. She was highly positive towards life and people. She studied and finished a masters degree in English literature. Ultimately, she wrote a book about her war experiences and I helped her put it on the web for open access : http://familymath.org/IC/zdenka/index.html (Zdenka’s story and book is also now part of the Holocaust museum in Washington DC and in Jerusalem, Israel)
Zdenka died in 2003 at age 84 in Israel.
Memorial for Zdenka’s family on Mt. Carmel, Haifa, Israel
My own journey to the past
My mother passed away on on December 23, 2003. In June 2005, I travelled to Croatia to find out what happened in the war and in 2006 my wife Haya joined me to continue the investigation.
This link shows the pictures from these trips and other information:
The End
Quotes from my mom’s book:
The rest of the slides include more direct quotes from my mom’s book that give more detailed descriptions of what happened during the last part of her journey with the Partisans.
End of the presentation The rest are extra slides
High Fever and Purifying snow scene
...when at the end of February almost the entire territory of Lika was abandoned by the Partisans we travelled for several days. The day before we had to leave I fell sick of paratyphoid, with very high fever and intestinal disorder with great pains. I was fortunate that we did not have to walk. It was a massive movement of all the Partisan institutions: trucks, wagons, lorries, carts, everything with wheels had been used. My group had an armored car where I remained lying more dead than alive during the entire journey. I only remember that when I opened my eyes I saw a most beautiful winter scene, snow hanging in various shapes from the tall, evergreen trees, a thousand forms of ice glittering like the purest crystals over frozen waters: it seemed like a fairy tale. Those were the lakes of Plitvice, one of the most beautiful places in Yugoslavia.
Cooling their feet
This time the transport was carried out partly on farmers' carts drawn by horses and partly by foot. The 'kitchen’ went with us; it was an enormous pot filled with meat and beans, though the cook never had the opportunity to serve the meal - whenever we stopped to make a fire to heat the pot Pokret echoed through the air. As usual, we arrived at a place where wheels could not carry us. This time the command was 'disperse, everyone goes on his own; to continue in groups is dangerous'. I went with two girls from our group; the afternoon was pleasant, we heard no shooting. We had no food, but this did not worry me; I was used to starving, but my feet were all lacerated from the heavy shoes - we were dressed from head to toe in British uniforms. Sometimes when we took a half-hour rest, off went my shoes, and I cooled my feet in a rivulet which was always easy to find. Oh, the country was beautiful; nature had recently awakened from its long Winter sleep, the soft green colour everywhere was so refreshing, birds twittered on the trees - but who cared, who had time to enjoy it?
Sleeping on the floor
At the end of the day we arrived at the bottom of a steep hill. Our alternative was either to climb or continue straight on.We had to hurry because darkness was approaching. Out of breath, we reached an inhabited area; some buildings emerged dimly on the horizon. A voice shouted 'Stoj!' ('Stop!'). The seconds of uncertainty seemed like hours until we were sure we were on friendly territory. It was Topusko, one of the bigger places where the Partisans concentrated their institutions. Here too, the same alarm, everybody getting ready for the Pokret. Instead of a sound night's rest we had to join the columns. Hundreds of people were walking through the darkness. I was actually among a crowd with no familiar face around me, but I knew I belonged with them. We all had the same aim: to escape from the enemy. Here, what I had read in books happened to me: I closed my eyes and went with the others who probably did the same. At dawn we stopped in a village; somebody was responsible for the lodgings. A school was assigned to me. I fell down on the floor, fast asleep.
Walking and walking
Though Drvar was many miles away, we were ordered to move. This was my second day of an endless journey. That night, however, I had some sleep. The smell of the stable where I was allotted to lodge overnight did not disturb me, nor was I worried about the next day. Nature, once again, had the upper hand; fatigue was cured by sleep, but only for a few hours. Could it become worse?Yes, it did! From all sides one could hear voices. I could hardly distinguish the main point: 'Brzo, brzo, napustamo selo' ('Quick, quick, we are leaving the village').
� To reach the first forest one had to walk quite a distance on the open road. The shooting came nearer, the shells flying over my head until I reached a little grove. So far I had carried with me all the things I had accumulated during my stay with the Partisans: I had a uniform to change, shirts, underwear, more shoes, a warm military coat and a blanket. That day I was not able to continue with all this ballast. I threw away everything except my little red suitcase, which was my bag and baggage from that time until the end of the war.
Reuniting with Fritz’s parents
Running through the grove, I was soon again on the open road. A cart passed by with horses running so swiftly as if they were having a contest with the wind. I raised my hand; they halted. It was the Komora with four Partisans who escaped at the last minute. They lifted me up and the horses raced on. A Stuka flew in circles above our heads; the cannonade was intensified; shrapnels exploded somewhere in the vicinity. The horses were well trained and reached the woods before the Germans could hurt us. Probably they seized the horses after we had to abandon them. I walked with the Partisans through the dense forest, uphill and down. Another evening approached, the third in a series of calvaries. We were again near the borders of a village. I was nearly collapsing and decided to stay in the village while the Partisans continued to move.
The next moming, walking through the village, I encountered many familiar faces, among them my parents-in-law. Our reunion was an event of great joy. Three years had passed since this word could be fitted into my vocabulary. My parents-in-law had left Zagreb in Spring 1942 and for more than eighteen months they lived in two Italian concentration camps in Kraljevica and Rab. After the capitulation of Italy they had lived a nomadic life, like the many Jewish families who succeeded in escaping from concentration camps, they were moving from place to place in territories captured by the Partisans. In comparison with them I had been much better off, as I discerned from what they told me. They had to struggle for their existence, worry about lodgings, food and clothing. In the case of a Pokret, their transportation was never secure. Some had means to hire a peasant to drive them to the next forest, but most people had to walk endlessly, lodging in the open air in the forest. As for myself, being part of the Partisans I had everything free: I had never had nor needed money during my stay with them.�
Living with in-laws
At the time I met my parents-in-law the Pokret was over. They intended to return to the village Vorkapi , a small place near Topusko, which they left when the Pokret had started. That territory was once again cleansed by the Partisans. I decided to join them. Remembering that summer, 1944, spent with my parents-in-law in Vorkapi , I must repeat what I said earlier that, for the first time after three years, I was happy. It was a mutual happiness, a substitute for both sides: the parents who lost their son and me without my beloved Fritz.�
Fritzel's parents lived in a farmers' house and the living conditions were of such a primitive nature that I can hardly describe them. The Partisans had palaces compared with this, at least where I worked. The primitive folks of Lika, Kordun and Banija lived no better than pigs; their living standards were so low that this comparison is not overstated. The level of hygiene was miserable: they had no toilets, no bathrooms, old and young slept together, often in one bed and the domestic animals, such as sheep, calves and lambs were kept inside the house. I shared one bed with my mother-in-law while her husband slept near to us on a wooden board which every evening was placed between two chairs to support it; a blanket of rough material was spread over the board, their coats were used as covers. A small table stood near our bed. This was our corner in a room that we shared with the owners of the house. In fact the house had two rooms, of which one was inhabited and the other served for storage. Two corners were occupied by the farmers' family; in one the grandmother slept with her grandson, in the other, the young couple. The kitchen was in the fourth comer; the sheep slept in the narrow entrance. The toilet was outside - a hole in the earth closed in from four sides by planks with a wooden square board above. The whole construction was so shaky that a strong gust could blow it down.
Visiting Fritz’s parents after the war (1959)