A Tragic Era, but Not a Tragic Life

Introduction

Mr. Natan Gipsman was quite a, as he would describe himself, "lucky" man. Natan welcomed Erin and I into his home, where we also met his wife, who's name sadly slips my mind at the moment. They were a very hospitable couple. They were also very open about their lives. They shared material with us ranging from their experiences during the Holocaust, to speaking about their children with some detail. Natan had an amazing recollection of this event for an 85 year old man. Even though what he endured would leave life-long memories, it was quite remarkable how specific he was with the detail. In this blog I wish to cover a brief synopsis of Natan's life, because he did give us a long accounting of his life. I will cover some of the questions we asked Natan, and also present his answers. I lastly wish to address what impression this amazing man, with an incredible story, made on me. I also wish to state that if there is any misrepresentation of what Natan told us, I apologize. Natan occasionally diverged from the chronological order of his story, and did not always give out dates, so I personally did my best to put the pieces together.

Life of Natan

Natan was born in Hindenburg, Germany in 1925. He lived in a town that was 95% Jewish. Luckily for Natan, he was old enough that he could complete most of grammar school before the Nazis marched in, in September of 1939, and began to impose greater and greater restrictions on the Jews of this town. These restrictions began with the relinquishing of arms, and going as far as ghettoizing the citizens, and imposing laws as far as where and when the Jews may travel. Natan's father understood what was coming down the chute, and worked the have Natan enter an apprenticeship under an electrical supplies operator. Due to this, Natan was granted a blue card, as opposed to the other color-coded cards that designated what skillet a given individual possessed, or didn't possess. Natan's was first sent away, soon followed by his mother and sister. Natan himself was taken to a labor camp where POW's from France and England were being held too. At this plant, anything from rubber to nitroglycerin was being developed. Constant air raids by Americans and English left the prisoners vulnerable, as the German soldiers took cover in their bunkers. Men were beaten or hanged for supposed 'sabotage' which included such minor offenses as putting excess paper under one's shirt to gain warmth, or finding spare rubber after a bombing, and lined one's shoes with it to strengthen their shoe. This camp would eventually have to be evacuated, not by the continual air raids, but by the fast approaching Russians who had managed to turn the tide of the war.

Their 'Death March' ensued, and whoever couldn't walk or gave up and fell was left for dead or just out rightly killed. They soon reached a temporary connecting point called Gros-Rosen. In Gros-Rosen, the men were stuffed into a room that became so tightly packed that he was literally lifted off the ground, while other men obviously must have gone under, and suffocated. After three days, the men were shipped off to Buchenwald. They would not be able to enter Buchenwald immediately, as there would have to be a preceding number of deaths before enough room was vacated to accommodate these new prisoners. The men were taken to a concrete foundation where they stayed a whole week until there was clearance to enter. The men ran around in circles, trying to huddle in the middle to gain warmth as the wind blew a terrible chill upon these unprotected prisoners. When they were finally allowed in, the men were shaved, showered, and told to un naked across the field to grab their pajamas. This was February of 1945. They didn't have quite enough room, so they over stuffed many men, including Natan into a room, and the floor collapsed, piling man on top of man. Natan was buried a minute or two, but managed to escape the miserable death of suffocation. Many of those men were not so lucky. The need for electrical workers was made known, so Natan put his name on a list of potentials. He and 150 other specialists rode to Magdeburg to begin their project. After a month, in April of 1945, the British and Americans were quickly approaching from the West, convincing the Nazi soldiers to head east. the men were marched in squadrons, and by sheer luck, Natan managed to slip out of his formation unnoticed, except by a barking dog. Natan head in a pig sty on a farm. The farmer assessed what had occurred and checked the pig sty, but did not see Natan. Natan was temporarily safe from imminent death at the hands of Nazis, but not from starvation. when the farmer fed the pigs, Natan ate their food. One day he waited for the farmer to head into town, and scoped his barn for things he could use. He took a pair of the farmers clothing, and ran to another farmer claiming he was an escaped 'Polish' prisoner, not a Jew. He received a little assistance, but had to constantly flee.

In May of 1945, he was discovered by a Russian officer who announced his formal liberation, and gave him a bicycle on which he could ride back home. Once he reached home, Natan found few people, but some slowly began to return. One of these people was a cousin of a man he had known, and recently met up with. This woman, who was from the same town, but was someone he had not known before the war, would become his wife in 1947. They lived on an American Air Force base until 1949, when a notice was announced which stated that DP's were being allowed into the United States. Natan and his wife jumped onto the opportunity, and first went to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. with his skill set, Natan found better work in Detroit, Michigan. Here, the couple had their first child in 1951. They soon moved to Los Angeles, where they had their second child in 1953. They currently have seven grandchildren and one great-grand child.

Questions

I asked Natan if he had access to any paper or pen during the war. Of course this was superfluous material, and being found with any material other than that which was essentially basic could be seen as treason. Of course it made sense that it wasn't the case that he possessed these materials, but I was intrigued to ask anyway, just in case.

I had also asked Natan's wife, who had viewed Paper Clip, what she thought about it. She was not apprehensive about answering the question, and came out quite emphatically in favor of its production as a film, and the project itself. This surprised me a bit, but was self-fulfilling since it was congruent with my point that the project served a better good than negative.

Erin and I respectfully interrupted Natan when we had questions about his story, either when we wanted more detailed clarification, or if something just didn't make sense. Typically his detailed descriptions of various holding cells or types of labor spawned some interruptions from us, leading us to inquire further as to what he was driving at.

After our interview, we spoke more casually with each other asking about their family; where their children and grandchildren lived, about who else they speak to about their stories, and topics of this nature.

Analysis

I am incredibly grateful for what Natan imparted on me. His insight is greater than any book, film, or work of art, fictional or non-fictional. The first hand testimony of any person regarding any event, should always have a more profound effect on those witnessing the testimony than any other form of media ought to. I say should, because it not always does, but I can vouch that in this instance, it certainly did for me. With Natan's testimony being shared with Erin and I, we will be able to keep his story alive through our second hand account, and work to counteract those who may wish to distort or undermine what our interviewee claimed did in fact happen. I believe that Natan led a truly amazing life, and though his fortune did not steer him away from the Holocaust, it was his luck and determination that led him out. I am eternally grateful to this man, for giving me the opportunity to partake in such a once in a lifetime opportunity.