Paris, Summer 1939
THE REISER FAMILY settled into an uneasy calm in Paris. As relieved as they were to have escaped Czechoslovakia, they knew they were not safe yet. They still needed their visas to Canada, and they had to book passage on a ship heading across the Atlantic. Both of these projects were proving to be complicated.
Despite George Harwood’s promise that he would provide the family with the entry visas to Canada, Victor was having difficulty securing those papers. Visit after visit to the consulate proved futile and he would return home empty-handed. “It’s just a matter of time,” he assured his waiting family. “There are so many forms to fill out, so much information the Canadian government wants. But we’ll have the papers soon. I’m sure of it.” Victor sounded hopeful, but Karl wondered if his optimism was misplaced. What did they actually know about George Harwood, and what authority did he really have to assist them? Karl had watched his mother deal with enough dishonest people to question the intentions of anyone who promised to help, especially if that promise was secured with a bribe. Karl struggled with his impressions of Harwood. The man had agreed to save his family, but he was profiting from the family’s desperation. Did that make him a hero or a criminal? Karl had learned that one had to be wary, trust few people, and anticipate the worst at every turn. That was the way to survive. And so, Karl and his family waited apprehensively as Victor made repeated visits to meet with officials at the consulate. Karl accompanied his father on one of those trips.
“What do they want to know this time?” he asked as he and his father climbed the stairs of the Canadian consulate one rainy day in early August. Karl had been in Paris for only two weeks, but already was feeling eager to move on. There was little for him and his sister to do here. Their days were spent listening to their parents discuss the arrangements to immigrate to Canada.
The rain and mist cast a gray pallor over Paris, further dampening his already melancholy mood. He thought fleetingly of Rakovník. He might have been swimming in the pond or bicycling through the countryside if he were home, instead of following his father on this seemingly endless mission to get out of Europe.
Victor sighed and stepped up the stairs. There was a limp there that Karl had never seen before, and a heaviness in his bearing that matched the depression that had settled over his personality.
“Haven’t the officials already asked you every possible question?” Karl was persistent in the face of his father’s silence.
“Who knows what they want, Karl,” Victor replied, wearily. “I think the problem is just that there are so many people wanting to get into their country.”
There were only two categories of people Canada was allowing in at that time: those who had agricultural knowledge and were willing to settle on a farm, and entrepreneurs who could invest a sizeable amount of money into a Canadian business, thus providing employment for local citizens. The Reisers were attempting to get into Canada under the stipulations of the farming category. “Even if we meet the conditions, there is little room for Jews in Canada’s policies. So they are scrutinizing us even more closely,” Victor added. Canadian government officials had become increasingly unreceptive to the prospect of admitting Jewish refugees from Europe. Notwithstanding the efforts of pro-refugee groups, the doors to Canada had all but closed by the summer of 1939, and the immigration policies under the leadership of Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King and his cabinet were virtually impenetrable.
On this day, the meeting at the Canadian consulate would be a true test of Victor’s knowledge and intuition. When Karl and his father were finally ushered into a meeting room, the official on the other side of the desk had some challenging questions for Victor.
Karl didn’t even catch the name of the bland bureaucrat who barely acknowledged them as they took their seats. The man’s desk was stacked with a mountain of files, folders, and other papers. He rifled through the heap and finally pulled a single sheet from underneath a pile of documents. “The Canadian government needs to understand how much you actually know about farming methods. This is just a short test that will help us determine your knowledge in the area of agriculture.”
Karl glanced over at his father, wondering what Victor really knew about farming. Even though he had dealt with farmers in his transactions to secure grain crops, it was one thing to appreciate farming from a business perspective, and another to understand the detailed workings of the land. But Victor smiled evenly at the official and replied, “I’m happy to answer any questions you might have.”
The officer continued to examine his documents without looking up. “Yes, yes,” he mumbled. “Now then, how do you tell the age of a cow?”
“By the number of incisors in its mouth,” Victor replied, instantly and confidently.
“And what methods would you use to increase soil moisture and reduce soil erosion?”
A half hour later, the questions had ended, and Victor stood to shake hands with the Canadian official. He had passed the test with no difficulty. “We will let you know about the entry documents shortly,” the man said.
“We are eager to begin our lives in Canada working on a farm,” Victor replied.
The official turned his attention back to the files that threatened to topple on his desk, and dismissed Victor and Karl with a wave of his hand.
“What now?” Karl asked, as he and his father walked quickly back to the hotel.
“Now we wait again,” Victor replied.
Karl sighed and wondered once more if the waiting would ever end. He knew they were luckier than most. At least they were out of immediate harm’s way. But this uncertainty was agonizing. And their ordeal was being made all the more tense by the grim news of the approaching war. Europe was mobilizing for battle. And while Poland appeared to be Hitler’s intended target, France was highly vulnerable.
“There are rumors that Paris will be bombed,” Marie said that evening as the family gathered to hear about Victor’s test at the consulate.
Victor lifted tired eyes to meet his wife’s concerned gaze and nodded. “The papers are full of warnings. The good relationship that once existed between France and Germany is gone, I’m afraid.” It was well known that the governments of the two countries had for years agreed to ongoing consultation if international developments threatened either one of them. “Now, France has abandoned Germany in favor of a pact with Britain and Poland. And Germany will not look kindly on France’s desertion. If Poland is attacked, France will have no other option but to go to her aid.”
“Do you have any sense at all of when we might hear about the papers?” Marie asked.
Victor shook his head. “I believe that I have answered all of their questions. I’m certain we’ll have the visas soon.”
Marie took a deep breath. “I think we should get out of Paris now, before the bombs fall here.” She had been pacing the hotel room for several days, glancing out the window, listening to news reports on the radio, devouring the papers. She was once more on high alert, tuned in to the pulse of the nation, and determining when she might need to mobilize her family. And now she sensed it was time to move. “We’ll be safer in the country.”
Victor did not disagree. He too had learned to trust his wife’s instincts. And so the family packed up once more and headed north of the city, this time to stay in a small rented château in the village of Vieux Moulin. Karl spent his days taking long walks along the Oise River and through the French countryside where cottages were separated by large squares of forest and meadow. Here amidst the trees and pastures, Karl felt lightness, something he had not experienced in a long time. The air moved more freely here, unencumbered by the compact architecture of Paris, the equally dense population, and the oppressive anticipation of war. Close by, in the city of Compiègne, the armistice had been signed in 1918, ending World War I. As the world stood on the brink of another war, the irony of this did not escape Karl.
Not only could he breathe more freely outside the big city, but he felt freer here in the country as well. Though there were no restrictions for Jews in France, no laws governing what they could and couldn’t do, and no outright hostility, there was a sense that the French would make a distinction between “their” Jews and “immigrant” Jews. Local Jews would be protected if the conflict in the world escalated, while foreign Jews might be subject to deportation back to their home countries. Here in rural France, away from the political glare of the big city, the threat of deportation seemed less imminent, even though war was just on the horizon.
It was here in the countryside that Karl also dared to think about Canada, a country full of fields and meadows just like the ones surrounding him. That new land awaited his family if only they could reach it. Perhaps he would finish his education there, or work in a productive business, marry, and raise children. He had his whole life ahead of him, and the possibility of living it in a free country was overwhelming. It was after one such walk through the forest that Karl returned to the château to find his mother and sister packing their belongings once more.
“We’re going back to Paris,” Marie announced as Karl entered the house.
Hana looked up from her packing and smiled. “Father received word that the visas are ready to be picked up.”
“We’ve done it, Karl,” Marie added. “Now we can really start our new lives in Canada.”
Karl could hardly believe what he was hearing. After all the months of uncertainty and waiting, could it really be that they had passed every hurdle and were going to be able to get out of Europe at last? They barely spoke to one another on the journey back to Paris. Despite the dire predictions, the city had not been bombed. However, like cities across Europe, it lay in anxious expectation of what would happen in the days and weeks to come. Each member of Karl’s family was lost in private thoughts. Would the papers really be ready, Karl wondered, or would the family be subjected to a new series of questions, forms, and tests? Would they finally be able to leave for the safety of Canada, or would they find themselves imprisoned in a Europe destined for war?
When Karl and Victor entered the building of the Canadian consulate, they were ushered into the office of the same indifferent administrator. This time, he rose from behind his cluttered desk and extended his hand to Victor. “Here are all the documents required to enter Canada as permanent immigrants, Mr. Reiser,” the man said. He handed the papers over to Victor. On top, Karl couldn’t help but notice that Victor’s passport had been altered slightly. Next to the line that asked for occupation, the consulate official had scratched out the word “businessman” and replaced it with the handwritten words “agricultural estate owner.” “Good luck to you and your family,” the official said.
Victor’s eyes shone brightly and he stood a little straighter as he left the building clutching the visas to Canada. With the papers in hand, there was only one more thing left for Victor to do and that was to book passage on a ship sailing for Quebec City. With the world on the brink of war, Europe was filled with panicky North Americans scrambling to get home. There were long line-ups at the booking offices in Paris, where anxious would-be passengers pushed and shoved to get to the front. Fortunately for Karl and his family, George Harwood had come through for them again. While many others would be stranded in Europe, four tickets were waiting for the Reisers on the Canadian Pacific steamer Empress of Britain, which was due to sail from France on September 1.
This would be the last commercial voyage of this vessel before it was converted into a warship. A year later, it would be torpedoed and sunk by a German long-range bomber. The Reisers had no notion of the future fate of this liner as Victor happily paid for the tickets, and Karl and his family packed their bags one last time and boarded a train for the port city of Cherbourg.
The sun reflected off the gleaming white hull of the steamer as Karl stood on the deck, leaning over the railing and marveling at the crowd that had gathered on the pier to bid farewell to the travelers. More than one thousand passengers were on board, and these people would become his shipmates for the six-day journey across the ocean. People stood on either side of him, cheering and waving to friends, family, and even strangers on shore who waved in return. Pretty soon Karl found himself caught up in the fervor of the crowd and began to wave as well. His heart was pounding and his skin burned with feverish expectation. Ahead lay the vastness of the open sea and an unfamiliar country, a country that he was already beginning to call his new home. The horn blasted, the engine droned, and the anchor was cranked aboard as the Empress of Britain slipped its moorings and slowly moved out of the French harbor.
On that very day, German troops invaded Poland. Two days later, on September 3, Britain declared war on Germany for its unprovoked attack on Poland, and, a few hours later, France followed. At 11:15 a.m. that same day, Prime Minster Neville Chamberlain gave a speech to his nation and said, “It is evil things that we shall be fighting against – brute force, bad faith, injustice, oppression, and persecution – [but] against them I am certain that right will prevail.”5
On September 7, 1939, with war descending like a shroud over the world, the SS Empress of Britain docked in Quebec City and Karl and his family disembarked in their new home.