Jewish people in Auschwitz. In May of 1944, when these women and children arrived, they didn’t understand that the Nazi in charge had just “selected” them to go to their deaths in the gas chambers.
EVEN BACK IN AMERICA, VARIAN DID WHAT HE COULD to help the refugees in France. He used his talents as a writer and speaker to educate people about what the Nazis were doing to the Jews of Europe. On December 21, 1942, the magazine where he worked, The New Republic, ran an article Varian wrote entitled “The massacre of the Jews.” in it Varian called for the people and churches all over the world to make the atrocities against the Jews known. He also called on the United States to open its doors to more refugees. Varian warned the world that Jews were being starved to death, worked to death, and packed into cattle cars and shipped to eastern europe to be killed. He wrote: “According to a report to the President by leaders of American Jewish groups, nearly 2,000,000 European Jews have already been slain since the war began, and the remaining 5,000,000 now living under Nazi control are scheduled to be destroyed.”
Also in the article, Varian told about a letter he had seen from a Jew in Poland. Written in German, it was allowed to pass the censor in Germany because the writer used Hebrew words, which the censor did not understand, as if they were names. Varian quoted the letter:
I spoke to Mr. Jaeger … [“Mr. Jaeger” means the Germans.] He told me that he will invite all relatives of the family Achenu [Hebrew for “our brethren,” i. e., the Jews], with the exception of Miss Eisenzweig [probably means those working in the iron mines], from Warsaw to his mansion “Kewer” [Hebrew for “tomb”]. Uncle Gerusch [Hebrew for “deportation”] also works in Warsaw; he is a very capable worker. My friend Miso [Hebrew for “death”] now works with him. I am alone here; I feel very lonely … Please pray for me. [Bracketed passages in original.]
Jewish people in Auschwitz. In May of 1944, when these women and children arrived, they didn’t understand that the Nazi in charge had just “selected” them to go to their deaths in the gas chambers.
Varian tried to get Americans to understand that each and every Jew in Europe was in danger. But even with proof that the Holocaust was taking place, America and other countries took in too few Jewish refugees. As World War II continued, just as Varian feared, some concentration camps turned into extermination camps where Jews were ruthlessly and systematically murdered.
Nazi leaders being questioned about their war crimes at the Nuremberg Trials. The defendants, left to right, beginning in the front row: Hermann Göring, Rudolf Hess, Joachim von Ribbentrop, Wilhelm Keitel, Ernst Kaltenbrunner, Alfred Rosenberg, Hans Frank, Wilhelm Frick, Julius Streicher, Walther Funk, Hjalmar Schacht. Back row, from left to right: Karl Dönitz, Erich Raeder, Baldur von Schirach, Fritz Sauckel, Alfred Jodl, Franz von Papen, Arthur Seyss-Inquart, Albert Speer, Konstantin von Neurath, and Hans Fritzsche.
After years of great sacrifice and loss of life all over the world, the Allies won the war in 1945. The Nazis had been defeated and Hitler had committed suicide in Berlin. At war’s end, it is estimated that the Nazis had murdered more than 6,000,000 Jews, 1,500,000 of them children, and 5,000,000 non-Jews.
The Allies put the surviving leaders of Hitler’s Third Reich—the Third Empire, as the Nazis named their regime—on trial for their war crimes. The trial was held in Nuremberg, Germany, the same city where the anti-Semitic Nuremberg Laws had been announced in 1935. Of the twenty-four major war criminals accused, twelve men were sentenced to hang; three were sentenced to life in prison; four were sent to prison for years; three were set free; one committed suicide while being held; and one was unable to stand trial because of his physical and mental condition.
When the war was over, Varian felt he could finally share the story of his work in Marseilles. His co-workers would no longer be in danger when the truth was told. Surrender on Demand was published in 1945.
Varian was relieved to find out that Beamish, Danny, Jean, Maurice, Charlie, Gussie, and Hans and Lisa Fittko all survived the war. Now all of them would have to find a way to deal with their wartime experiences and make a new life. In a letter to Jean on January 9, 1945, Varian wrote that he had been undergoing psychoanalysis and that it was “quite a hard job.” He told Jean he was living alone with his two dogs, Clovis and Clovis’s “wife,” his books, and his pictures.
Jean wrote back: “You describe your life as a peaceful and occupied one, rather lonely perhaps, but surrounded with books, dogs and pictures … From the sound of your letter, I gather you do not feel very happy, although you would like to pretend to be.”
By 1946 Varian decided to set aside his work as a writer and editor and go into business. He bought a production studio that made commercials and educational films, but ultimately it ended in bankruptcy. After this he worked as a freelance writer for several big companies, including Coca-Cola. He remained interested in social causes and was on the board of directors for the American Civil Liberties Union and the International League for the Rights of Man.
Varian, always the rescuer, nursed this injured robin back to health.
In 1948, six years after they divorced, Eileen was diagnosed with cancer. Varian sat by the hospital bedside of his dear friend each day and read to her. Eileen Fry died on May 12, 1948.
On November 11, 1950, Varian married a beautiful young woman named Annette Riley, who was sixteen years younger than he. Together they had three children, Thomas, Sylvia, and James. Varian and his family moved to a large home in Ridgefield, Connecticut, where Varian could enjoy his family, watching birds, and gardening.
As the years went by, the two different sides of Varian’s personality became more noticeable. He could be a charming, funny storyteller, but he could also be moody, argumentative, and bossy. Varian and Annette’s marriage was difficult for this reason.
In the early 1960s Varian decided he wanted to return to his favorite subjects, Latin and Greek. He got a job teaching high school in Connecticut. But after a disagreement with the Coca-Cola Company, Varian lost his freelance job writing materials for them. Without the extra income, his family had to move to a smaller home.
More than twenty years had come and gone since Varian and the International Rescue Committee (IRC) had parted ways. In 1963, however, the IRC wanted to publicly honor Varian for his work in Marseilles for the cause of freedom. It was the first recognition Varian received. One of his favorite protégés, Jacques Lipchitz, presented Varian with a medal. Lipchitz had become a world-famous artist since he moved to America. His sculptures were displayed in art museums all over the world. Jacques Lipchitz always gave Varian the credit he deserved for what he had done in Marseilles.
Jacques Lipchitz presenting the medal of the International Rescue Committee to Varian in recognition of his work in Marseilles.
Later in 1963 Varian came up with a fundraising idea for the IRC. He would ask some of the famous modern artists he had helped get out of France to create a painting. Each artist would create a lithograph, a type of print, that would remind people of the many refugees who had fled the Nazis. Each piece of art would be as individual as the artist who created it. The plan was that after all the artists finished, the International Rescue Committee would compile their pieces into a set that would be titled Flight. When the sets were sold to the public, Varian would get 10 percent of the sales as payment for making all the contacts and arrangements.
Varian was excited about working on this project, probably more excited than he’d been in a long time. Since many of the artists had returned to France after the war was over, Varian would get the chance to revisit his beloved Marseilles.
In the fall of 1964 Varian once again saw Marseilles. War damage, such as the destruction of much of the Old Port, had long since been repaired. Varian was thrilled to be back. On a postcard to his wife, Annette, Varian wrote: “I can hardly believe I am really in Marseille again: I think I had given up, long ago, the hope of ever seeing it again. It has changed much since I first arrived here, more than 24 years ago … But much has not changed at all, and I find myself growing very sentimental.”
Unfortunately, Varian found the lithograph project more frustrating and difficult to accomplish than he’d imagined. And once again, his trip to France lasted longer than he’d expected, more than five months. Getting busy artists to agree to create a piece of art for charity took time. Some refugees whom Varian had helped get out of France happily contributed a piece of art. But other artists would not participate. Varian asked André Breton to write an introduction to the art portfolio. Breton, his wife, and daughter had lived at the Villa Air-Bel with Varian and the others. Months went by before Varian got an answer, and not from Breton directly. The message came in the form of a memo from a mutual acquaintance to Charles Sternberg, director of the International Rescue Committee. The memo relayed Breton’s position on the issue. It said:
The whole matter is a “malentendu” [misunderstanding], never did he [Breton] think or promise to write anything about Marseille. This is not within the range of things he does.
He says he had given to Varian Fry one of his books with a nice and friendly dedication, but that’s all and no more is to be expected.
Ultimately, twelve different artists contributed a piece for the Flight portfolio. Only four of the contributors, Jacques Lipchitz, Marc Chagall, André Masson, and Wifredo Lam had been Varian’s protégés in Marseilles. The other eight were Eugene Berman, Alexander Calder, Adolph Gottlieb, Joan Miró, Robert Motherwell, Edouard Pignon, Maria Elena Vieira da Silva, and Fritz Wotruba.
The lithograph that Jacques Lipchitz donated, at Varian’s request, to the Flight portfolio for the International Rescue Committee.
Through the years, Varian had developed a tendency to be overly concerned about his health and, according to Sheila Isenberg’s book, took too much medication. But now Varian truly wasn’t well. While he was in France, he had a heart attack. Then, in letters home, he complained about continuing pain in his shoulders.
During Varian’s trip to Europe, he wrote in a letter: “A number of my friends, French and other, here in Paris and elsewhere in France, have asked me why I don’t wear ‘the little ribbon’ [the Legion of Honor Medal awarded to those who gave extraordinary service to France], and I have had to answer that I don’t wear it because I have never been given the right to wear it.” He added that “They have usually then said that I certainly ought to be given that right, because I did, in fact, much more for France than many étrangers [foreigners] who have received the decoration … One friend has even gotten a member of the Chamber of Deputies, Tomasini, to agree to present my name for some sort of decoration or other.”
After he returned home, Varian continued to work on the Flight portfolio for the next several years.
At last, in 1967, Varian got some official recognition from France. For his work in Marseilles, the nation of France awarded Varian Fry the Cross of Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. Established by Emperor Napoleon I, the Legion of Honor is the highest honor given in France. On April 12, 1967, the ceremony was held at the French Consulate in New York City.
Varian Fry after receiving the Cross of Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, in 1967. The medal, shown here pinned to Varian’s left lapel, was presented by Edouard Morot-Sir, the cultural counselor at the French Consulate. It was a proud moment for Varian, his wife, Annette, and their children, James, Sylvia, and Thomas.
That summer, Varian started writing a version of his story for young readers entitled Assignment: Rescue, An Autobiography. But he had trouble working. He was experiencing headaches and dizziness, and he checked into the hospital, but the doctors found nothing amiss.
While he was there, his mood swings worsened. Varian had been distant and difficult all summer, and now he asked Annette for a divorce. She arranged to get a quick divorce in Mexico. But on her return, she found Varian sad. When he was released from the hospital, he went back home with Annette.
In the fall, Varian began a new teaching job at a high school in Connecticut. He taught class on Thursday and Friday, the first two days of school, then went to spend the weekend with Annette and their children. At the beginning of the next week, Varian returned to the home he rented near the school.
On September 13, 1967, Varian went to bed, taking with him some research material for the new book project, Assignment: Rescue. Varian died that night from a cerebral hemorrhage, with memories of Marseilles scattered about him.