Polenaktion
Batrix2070
RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
July 17, 1939
Third Republic of Poland
Warsaw
Presidential Palace
The days went by, but it didn't mean they were peaceful. In fact, there were frequent events that caught the attention of the Polish public. It was not surprising, as the times were extremely tense and the demands on the ruling government were increasing, so every scandal caused by incompetence had a stronger impact than usual.
The rulers were well aware of these demands; there was no need to remind them. After all, Poland was constantly under the threat of two lurking dangers, waiting for it to falter. It was difficult to sleep peacefully in such a situation.
That was the case in this particular situation, which touched on old wounds. Germany had decided to carry out the long-delayed Polenaktion. Over 70,000 Polish Jews living in Germany were expelled to the Polish border, forcing Poland to accept them.
Of course, the action was not as heartless as in the original timeline (OTL); there was already concern about the Polish reaction to the forced emigration. Therefore, the Jews were allowed to take their belongings, not wanting to further antagonize their hostile neighbor.
Especially since Poland eventually signed a treaty with Germany regulating their relations, a painful treaty that limited armaments and claims. Although the ultimatum was not fully accepted, Germany obtained an appropriate mediator who was able to loosen Poland's demands regarding the most crucial issues.
As a result, Polish citizens from the time of the Second Polish Republic were recognized as citizens of the Third Polish Republic and were under its protection. One of the things that changed as a result of this transition was the attitude towards Polish citizens abroad. Due to obvious reasons, Poland as a major power had to personally defend its citizens and not leave them at the mercy of fate.
Therefore, Germany was afraid to mistreat any Polish people in Germany, broadly understood as Poles. However, they didn't want the Jews in their own country, while Poland offered to accept anyone that Germany didn't want, so they expelled the Polish Jews first.
This was problematic because the action resembled Lukashenko's move in 2021. Just like back then, the Polish state was caught off guard. Nevertheless, the authorities reacted automatically, suspending the forced emigration to Poland.
Very quickly, the new German ambassador to Poland, Hans Thomsen, was summoned to the Polish Ministry of Foreign Affairs to explain himself. He was terrified by the fury directed at him, which he had never seen before in his life, and he struggled to stammer that the Poles had promised to take everyone.
To which he received a response that they would take them, provided they were warned in advance to prepare. Not overnight. Nevertheless, a quick response was necessary. President Duda took it upon himself to resolve the matter.
Considering the fact that Jews were involved, the Rabbinate of the Republic of Poland, representing both the old and new Poland, gathered in the Presidential Palace.
The Chief Rabbi of Poland, Michael Schudrich, presided over the Rabbinate. He was a man with a rather liberal approach, which posed a problem for many rabbis from the territory of the Second Polish Republic.
They mockingly called him "Hamerykaner," referring to the fact that he was born and raised in America.
Nevertheless, in this matter, they could rely on him because he showed without hesitation that he wanted to accept those Jews. At the expense of the Jewish communities, of course.
"...therefore, I assure Mr. President that there won't be major problems in their reception," Schudrich informed.
The president nodded. "So, the costs of absorption, adaptation to contemporary society, and so on, will be covered by the Jewish side?"
"Yes," agreed Schudrich.
"So, one problem solved. We just need to find a place to accommodate them," President Duda replied, reassured.
"Don't you have a problem with accepting these Jews?" Rabbi Dawid Kahane from Lwów expressed surprise.
"Why would we? According to the German side, there are about 70,000 Jews, and currently there are 42 million Poles. It's nothing," Duda replied, astonished by the question.
"Of course, because it will end with those 70,000. They won't try to cram in the rest," Rabbi Dawid Szychowski from Łódź sarcastically remarked.
"Then we'll accept the rest. After all, we already accept Jewish immigrants from all over Europe," Duda said.
"Including the other immigrants, did you forget about that?" Kahane replied, well aware of the scale of immigration to Poland.
"He didn't forget; he just doesn't really care. He doesn't know how much Western Jews look down on us because we're from the East," said Izaak Rubisztejn, the rabbi from Wilno.
"They also look down on Poles, did you forget?" Szychowski asked him.
"But Poles have their own country! Now the richest in the world! We don't, so those Western Jews will continue to look down on us with superiority. After all, in the future Poland, there will be practically no Jews," Rubisztejn observed. It was no secret that he was a Zionist and the President of Mizrachi in the Eastern Borderlands.
This organization advocated for the rebuilding of a Jewish state in Palestine based on religious principles, as well as equal rights for the Jewish population in Poland and the broadest loyalty to the Republic.
Given that the Future Poland did not concern itself with the Jewish question, even nationalist circles, although generally unfriendly towards minorities, the principle of equal rights was de facto fully implemented. The Third Republic abolished all restrictions that universities and other organizations had previously imposed.
It did not go without controversy among the borderland communities, which were amplified by the National Movement within the Confederation, seeking voters in the Borderlands. However, in the end, the state machinery broke the resistance of organizations in the Borderlands. That is why the Confederation was cautious in publicizing these issues, not wanting to lose voters and focusing mainly on justified matters.
The general attitude of Polish society towards the Jews from the Borderlands was indifferent, considering them just another minority in the region.
Of course, nationalists extensively publicized the alarming decline in Poland's national unity, although in reality, it wasn't as significant. Currently, Poles make up 83% of the total population, with over 50 million people.
Compared to the statistics from the times of the Second Polish Republic, the current situation was much better for the country's stability.
"Prejudices cannot be dismantled in a year, Mr. Rubisztejn. From what I gathered in conversations with the World Union, they find it hard to believe that it was Germany, not Poland, that exterminated those Jews. And they consider our immense wealth to be derived from the theft of Jewish assets," Schudrich replied, attempting to end the fruitless discussion.
In response to the last statement, Rubisztejn scoffed, "Wealth from theft? Please, the average Jew is as poor as a church mouse, confined to ghettos or shtetls of their own volition, and they keep getting poorer. What did they feast on? Can't they believe that Poles are capable of anything?"
"Well, they consider the Anglo-Saxons, French, and Germans as the master races, while Slavs are only fit for labor, and Jews are leeches," Kahane said.
"But you know that Michael was referring to the World Rabbis, right?" Szychowski interjected.
"Yes, so what?" Kahane replied.
"Well, they probably won't think that Jews are leeches," Szychowski retorted.
This amused the Eastern rabbis, and they began to chuckle.
"Dawid," Rubisztejn started.
"They are infected with the mindset of their societies. They see us as Ostjuden, treating us like typical German Jews. They consider themselves equal to the master races, while we are useless parasites," Kahane concluded.
Szychowski remained silent.
"And how can you explain their contemptuous attitude towards Jews fleeing from Central Europe and their encouragement to Western governments to close their borders?" Rubisztejn asked him.
"You know very well how it all ended!" Kahane added.
Szychowski still had no answer.
"Are you finished?" Schudrich asked them.
"Now we are," Rubisztejn replied unabashedly.
"Although we make no promises," Kahane added.
The Chief Rabbi put his hand on his forehead, feeling exhausted. President Duda chuckled as he witnessed the rabbis' debate.
"Alright, let's now move on to the organizational matters. We want to determine how many and how quickly you can accommodate..." Duda continued.
July 20, 1939
Third Polish Republic
Szczecin
Szczecin Main Railway Station
An old steam locomotive pulled onto the modern platform, bearing the markings of Deutsche Reichsbahn. The passenger wagons it brought were not the most modern, but fortunately, they were suitable for transportation.
A large cloud of steam escaped as the German conductors began to open the doors of the train. Within moments, hundreds of people poured out of the train. They were met by members of charitable organizations, special staff assigned to facilitate the exchange of documents for new ones, and members of Jewish communities who would assist in directing each family to their destination.
The station itself had already been prepared to receive refugees, as it had appropriate facilities previously used by Ukrainians.
Among the Jews exiting the trains that day was a particular family. They were the Gryszpan family, with Zendel, the head of the family, his wife Ryfka, and their son Mordechai with his wife Berta. Their second son, Herschel, awaited them on the platform. He had recently arrived in Poland from France, using funds provided by his relatives to help the family.
In another world, Herschel would have been indirectly responsible for triggering Kristallnacht after he shot and killed the secretary of the German ambassador in France, Ernst vom Rath, in retaliation for the Polenaktion.
However, in this reality, Herschel never resorted to such actions, although he came close. Ultimately, his uncle dissuaded him, saying that he would be more valuable to the family in Poland, unaware of what young Herschel had contemplated doing.
In this way, by chance, he saved the lives of the remaining Jews in Germany.
Young Gryszpan eventually agreed to buy a ticket for the first available ship in Calais, preferring to avoid Germany out of pure caution. He sailed to Szczecin, where his family was supposed to be.
Prior to his departure, his relatives managed to arrange a temporary Polish passport and identity document for Herschel, allowing him to leave France without obstacles. He was unaware that he would be leaving France for many years, but on the other hand, his visa had expired, and he was mostly languishing in France rather than realizing his aspirations.
As soon as he arrived in Szczecin, the first thing he did was establish contact with organizations tasked with assisting refugees from Germany. It was challenging because he didn't speak Polish, only German. He had lived in Germany since he was a child, where his parents had immigrated.
Fortunately, the young Jew's energy and the fact that Szczecin was a regular destination for Germans who left their money in Polish pockets made it only a minor obstacle. Eventually, he managed to rent a room for a few nights in one of the hotels in Szczecin.
He had been waiting all this time for his relatives to arrive, which happened today. In the meantime, Herschel took the opportunity to explore the city during breaks from waiting at the station.
It was quite a shock. Paris or his hometown of Hanover were something grand, but Szczecin surpassed them. It had a smaller population, but the entire metropolitan area was much larger than both cities combined. The city pleasantly surprised him.
And it was cleaner, certainly cleaner than Paris.
"My son!" Zendel exclaimed in German upon seeing his child, embracing him, followed by his wife Ryfka.
"Welcome, Father," Herschel replied. "Mother and brother," he addressed his remaining relatives one by one.
The last to greet was his sister-in-law Berta, who had sent him a letter explaining their situation.
"It's a bit strange seeing this city with Polish signs," his brother Mordechai said, looking around the platform.
Herschel smiled. "You haven't seen the strangest part yet."
"What haven't I seen?" Mordechai asked, but Herschel didn't want to say.
"It doesn't matter, Mordechai. We'll find out soon enough," he said, then turned to his younger son. "Lead the way!"
Herschel fulfilled the request, leading them to one of the side halls where there was already a long queue for the counters where female officials sat, processing the old identity documents and issuing new temporary ones.
The young Jew directed his family to the smaller queue, meant for those who didn't require immediate assistance. Both queues moved swiftly, and more Jews headed in the appropriate directions, mostly towards the buses parked in front of the station, which would take them to temporary centers designated for them.
The first person to stand before a woman who appeared to be in her forties was Zendel.
"Please present your documents and state your name," she said in German.
"Zendel Gryszpan, and you can speak Polish. I understand the language," Zendel replied in rusty but comprehensible Polish.
"I see. Please have a seat," the woman responded, slightly pleased, and then she clicked something on a strange typewriter-like device, transcribing the information from his ID card and passport.
"Born in Radomsko on the XX day of the X month, XXXX?" the woman asked as he sat on the peculiar plastic chair. He immediately sensed that the material he was sitting on was not natural.
"That's correct."
"Your parents?"
"Dawid and Miriam."
"Mother's maiden name?"
"Epstein."
"Educational background?"
"I completed primary school and was trained as a tailor," Zendel replied.
The woman looked at him, then clicked her tongue and muttered under her breath, weakly but still comprehensible, "Vocational."
"Occupation?"
"Tailor."
"Reason... sorry, mistake. What do you intend to be?"
"To the best of my ability, continue my profession," the older man confidently replied.
The woman looked at him strangely again, then entered something into that strange device and said, "It's not like you'll face much competition. Though I don't see much success in that field, it's largely become obsolete."
"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade," Zendel replied.
The woman agreed. "Well said, Mr. Gryszpan."
Then the strange machine, which he soon recognized as a printer, started working after the woman made a final click with the peculiar device. She then took out a folder and inserted the freshly printed sheets along with some strange colored ones featuring the Polish coat of arms and his documents inside.
"Considering that you have chosen a position for individuals with certain connections in Poland, you and your family are not entitled to a place in the refugee center. Therefore, for the next 7 days, you are required to stay in Szczecin to collect your ID card from the Municipal Office," the official informed Zendel in an officious tone.
"Furthermore, I inform you about a special non-repayable loan from the Ministry of Finance available to refugees for establishing their own place of work. To apply, you must submit an application through one of the designated organizations here. You will find more information in the brochure."
Zendel was astonished to hear this.
"In addition, you will receive a subsidized personal phone with an Orange Telekomunikacja Polska SIM card from the Union of Jewish Religious Communities," the woman took out a large black box with a prominent Orange logo on the side, containing a flat device that clearly resembled a phone. The label indicated it belonged to the Kruger&Matz brand.
"Do I understand correctly that the user manual is inside?" Zendel asked the woman, who smiled and shook her head.
"No, but you can ask one of those people," she pointed to a few individuals. "They are here to guide you through the first steps and teach you how to operate modern devices."
"Is that all?" Zendel asked.
"Yes," the woman replied, and Zendel gave up his place to his wife.
While the official attended to his wife, Zendel examined what he had received. First, he started flipping through the documents, which included numerous colorful pages written in three languages: Polish, German, and Yiddish. The Yiddish section immediately revealed that it had been hastily and rather blindly produced.
Meanwhile, his elder son became intrigued by the box with the phone. "Father, what is this?"
"A phone," Zendel replied without interrupting his reading.
"Such a small one?" Mordechaj exclaimed. "And where's the cord?"
"Welcome to the future, brother! That's how phones are made now, small enough to fit in your pocket and without a cord. Every Polish person has one," Herschel said.
"It must be expensive," Mordechaj remarked.
"Not really, the highest price is four thousand złoty," Herschel replied.
"That's a lot!" Mordechaj noticed.
"Perhaps in Germany, brother. But here in Poland, the minimum wage is three thousand four hundred złoty."
"Whose minimum wage? The manager of a steelworks?" Mordechaj asked incredulously.
"An ordinary worker, for example, a store clerk," Herschel replied, causing Mordechaj's jaw to drop.
"Did you hear, Father? Almost three and a half thousand for an ordinary laborer! Why didn't we come here earlier?" Mordechaj spoke up.
"Yes, and think for a moment. Would you believe it if you heard about it in the Reich?" Zendel asked his son, interrupting his reading.
Mordechaj pondered for a moment. "No..." Then he wanted to add something, but his mother called him.
"Mordechaj, it's your turn!"
The eldest son cut off halfway through a word before dejectedly moving to a plastic chair.
"So, what do we do, Zendel?" his wife asked him.
The head of the family didn't respond immediately. It was only after finishing reading the last brochure that he answered, "We make use of what life gives us and move forward."
"So?" she inquired.
"So, we make use of the assistance provided by those organizations and what the Polish government offers us. We'll try to find accommodation in Stettin and attempt to open a tailoring workshop here. The woman mentioned that it's a dying profession, so we don't have to worry about competition."
"Only about finding customers," Ryfka pointed out.
Zendel shrugged. "We managed despite the hostility from the Germans and the constant obstacles thrown at us by the Nazis. We will manage here as well."
"Isn't that right, Herschel?" he asked his younger son.
Herschel nodded. "Yes, Dad."
"That's good," Zendel replied. "So, my son, I hope you didn't idle away your time while waiting for us. Do you have something interesting?"
Herschel nodded again. "Yes! I have a few interesting locations. Some of the locals couldn't withstand the wave of crises and had to close down. They are offering to sell their premises at a low price."
Zendel perked up his ears.
Third Republic of Poland
Warsaw
Presidential Palace
The days went by, but it didn't mean they were peaceful. In fact, there were frequent events that caught the attention of the Polish public. It was not surprising, as the times were extremely tense and the demands on the ruling government were increasing, so every scandal caused by incompetence had a stronger impact than usual.
The rulers were well aware of these demands; there was no need to remind them. After all, Poland was constantly under the threat of two lurking dangers, waiting for it to falter. It was difficult to sleep peacefully in such a situation.
That was the case in this particular situation, which touched on old wounds. Germany had decided to carry out the long-delayed Polenaktion. Over 70,000 Polish Jews living in Germany were expelled to the Polish border, forcing Poland to accept them.
Of course, the action was not as heartless as in the original timeline (OTL); there was already concern about the Polish reaction to the forced emigration. Therefore, the Jews were allowed to take their belongings, not wanting to further antagonize their hostile neighbor.
Especially since Poland eventually signed a treaty with Germany regulating their relations, a painful treaty that limited armaments and claims. Although the ultimatum was not fully accepted, Germany obtained an appropriate mediator who was able to loosen Poland's demands regarding the most crucial issues.
As a result, Polish citizens from the time of the Second Polish Republic were recognized as citizens of the Third Polish Republic and were under its protection. One of the things that changed as a result of this transition was the attitude towards Polish citizens abroad. Due to obvious reasons, Poland as a major power had to personally defend its citizens and not leave them at the mercy of fate.
Therefore, Germany was afraid to mistreat any Polish people in Germany, broadly understood as Poles. However, they didn't want the Jews in their own country, while Poland offered to accept anyone that Germany didn't want, so they expelled the Polish Jews first.
This was problematic because the action resembled Lukashenko's move in 2021. Just like back then, the Polish state was caught off guard. Nevertheless, the authorities reacted automatically, suspending the forced emigration to Poland.
Very quickly, the new German ambassador to Poland, Hans Thomsen, was summoned to the Polish Ministry of Foreign Affairs to explain himself. He was terrified by the fury directed at him, which he had never seen before in his life, and he struggled to stammer that the Poles had promised to take everyone.
To which he received a response that they would take them, provided they were warned in advance to prepare. Not overnight. Nevertheless, a quick response was necessary. President Duda took it upon himself to resolve the matter.
Considering the fact that Jews were involved, the Rabbinate of the Republic of Poland, representing both the old and new Poland, gathered in the Presidential Palace.
The Chief Rabbi of Poland, Michael Schudrich, presided over the Rabbinate. He was a man with a rather liberal approach, which posed a problem for many rabbis from the territory of the Second Polish Republic.
They mockingly called him "Hamerykaner," referring to the fact that he was born and raised in America.
Nevertheless, in this matter, they could rely on him because he showed without hesitation that he wanted to accept those Jews. At the expense of the Jewish communities, of course.
"...therefore, I assure Mr. President that there won't be major problems in their reception," Schudrich informed.
The president nodded. "So, the costs of absorption, adaptation to contemporary society, and so on, will be covered by the Jewish side?"
"Yes," agreed Schudrich.
"So, one problem solved. We just need to find a place to accommodate them," President Duda replied, reassured.
"Don't you have a problem with accepting these Jews?" Rabbi Dawid Kahane from Lwów expressed surprise.
"Why would we? According to the German side, there are about 70,000 Jews, and currently there are 42 million Poles. It's nothing," Duda replied, astonished by the question.
"Of course, because it will end with those 70,000. They won't try to cram in the rest," Rabbi Dawid Szychowski from Łódź sarcastically remarked.
"Then we'll accept the rest. After all, we already accept Jewish immigrants from all over Europe," Duda said.
"Including the other immigrants, did you forget about that?" Kahane replied, well aware of the scale of immigration to Poland.
"He didn't forget; he just doesn't really care. He doesn't know how much Western Jews look down on us because we're from the East," said Izaak Rubisztejn, the rabbi from Wilno.
"They also look down on Poles, did you forget?" Szychowski asked him.
"But Poles have their own country! Now the richest in the world! We don't, so those Western Jews will continue to look down on us with superiority. After all, in the future Poland, there will be practically no Jews," Rubisztejn observed. It was no secret that he was a Zionist and the President of Mizrachi in the Eastern Borderlands.
This organization advocated for the rebuilding of a Jewish state in Palestine based on religious principles, as well as equal rights for the Jewish population in Poland and the broadest loyalty to the Republic.
Given that the Future Poland did not concern itself with the Jewish question, even nationalist circles, although generally unfriendly towards minorities, the principle of equal rights was de facto fully implemented. The Third Republic abolished all restrictions that universities and other organizations had previously imposed.
It did not go without controversy among the borderland communities, which were amplified by the National Movement within the Confederation, seeking voters in the Borderlands. However, in the end, the state machinery broke the resistance of organizations in the Borderlands. That is why the Confederation was cautious in publicizing these issues, not wanting to lose voters and focusing mainly on justified matters.
The general attitude of Polish society towards the Jews from the Borderlands was indifferent, considering them just another minority in the region.
Of course, nationalists extensively publicized the alarming decline in Poland's national unity, although in reality, it wasn't as significant. Currently, Poles make up 83% of the total population, with over 50 million people.
Compared to the statistics from the times of the Second Polish Republic, the current situation was much better for the country's stability.
"Prejudices cannot be dismantled in a year, Mr. Rubisztejn. From what I gathered in conversations with the World Union, they find it hard to believe that it was Germany, not Poland, that exterminated those Jews. And they consider our immense wealth to be derived from the theft of Jewish assets," Schudrich replied, attempting to end the fruitless discussion.
In response to the last statement, Rubisztejn scoffed, "Wealth from theft? Please, the average Jew is as poor as a church mouse, confined to ghettos or shtetls of their own volition, and they keep getting poorer. What did they feast on? Can't they believe that Poles are capable of anything?"
"Well, they consider the Anglo-Saxons, French, and Germans as the master races, while Slavs are only fit for labor, and Jews are leeches," Kahane said.
"But you know that Michael was referring to the World Rabbis, right?" Szychowski interjected.
"Yes, so what?" Kahane replied.
"Well, they probably won't think that Jews are leeches," Szychowski retorted.
This amused the Eastern rabbis, and they began to chuckle.
"Dawid," Rubisztejn started.
"They are infected with the mindset of their societies. They see us as Ostjuden, treating us like typical German Jews. They consider themselves equal to the master races, while we are useless parasites," Kahane concluded.
Szychowski remained silent.
"And how can you explain their contemptuous attitude towards Jews fleeing from Central Europe and their encouragement to Western governments to close their borders?" Rubisztejn asked him.
"You know very well how it all ended!" Kahane added.
Szychowski still had no answer.
"Are you finished?" Schudrich asked them.
"Now we are," Rubisztejn replied unabashedly.
"Although we make no promises," Kahane added.
The Chief Rabbi put his hand on his forehead, feeling exhausted. President Duda chuckled as he witnessed the rabbis' debate.
"Alright, let's now move on to the organizational matters. We want to determine how many and how quickly you can accommodate..." Duda continued.
July 20, 1939
Third Polish Republic
Szczecin
Szczecin Main Railway Station
An old steam locomotive pulled onto the modern platform, bearing the markings of Deutsche Reichsbahn. The passenger wagons it brought were not the most modern, but fortunately, they were suitable for transportation.
A large cloud of steam escaped as the German conductors began to open the doors of the train. Within moments, hundreds of people poured out of the train. They were met by members of charitable organizations, special staff assigned to facilitate the exchange of documents for new ones, and members of Jewish communities who would assist in directing each family to their destination.
The station itself had already been prepared to receive refugees, as it had appropriate facilities previously used by Ukrainians.
Among the Jews exiting the trains that day was a particular family. They were the Gryszpan family, with Zendel, the head of the family, his wife Ryfka, and their son Mordechai with his wife Berta. Their second son, Herschel, awaited them on the platform. He had recently arrived in Poland from France, using funds provided by his relatives to help the family.
In another world, Herschel would have been indirectly responsible for triggering Kristallnacht after he shot and killed the secretary of the German ambassador in France, Ernst vom Rath, in retaliation for the Polenaktion.
However, in this reality, Herschel never resorted to such actions, although he came close. Ultimately, his uncle dissuaded him, saying that he would be more valuable to the family in Poland, unaware of what young Herschel had contemplated doing.
In this way, by chance, he saved the lives of the remaining Jews in Germany.
Young Gryszpan eventually agreed to buy a ticket for the first available ship in Calais, preferring to avoid Germany out of pure caution. He sailed to Szczecin, where his family was supposed to be.
Prior to his departure, his relatives managed to arrange a temporary Polish passport and identity document for Herschel, allowing him to leave France without obstacles. He was unaware that he would be leaving France for many years, but on the other hand, his visa had expired, and he was mostly languishing in France rather than realizing his aspirations.
As soon as he arrived in Szczecin, the first thing he did was establish contact with organizations tasked with assisting refugees from Germany. It was challenging because he didn't speak Polish, only German. He had lived in Germany since he was a child, where his parents had immigrated.
Fortunately, the young Jew's energy and the fact that Szczecin was a regular destination for Germans who left their money in Polish pockets made it only a minor obstacle. Eventually, he managed to rent a room for a few nights in one of the hotels in Szczecin.
He had been waiting all this time for his relatives to arrive, which happened today. In the meantime, Herschel took the opportunity to explore the city during breaks from waiting at the station.
It was quite a shock. Paris or his hometown of Hanover were something grand, but Szczecin surpassed them. It had a smaller population, but the entire metropolitan area was much larger than both cities combined. The city pleasantly surprised him.
And it was cleaner, certainly cleaner than Paris.
"My son!" Zendel exclaimed in German upon seeing his child, embracing him, followed by his wife Ryfka.
"Welcome, Father," Herschel replied. "Mother and brother," he addressed his remaining relatives one by one.
The last to greet was his sister-in-law Berta, who had sent him a letter explaining their situation.
"It's a bit strange seeing this city with Polish signs," his brother Mordechai said, looking around the platform.
Herschel smiled. "You haven't seen the strangest part yet."
"What haven't I seen?" Mordechai asked, but Herschel didn't want to say.
"It doesn't matter, Mordechai. We'll find out soon enough," he said, then turned to his younger son. "Lead the way!"
Herschel fulfilled the request, leading them to one of the side halls where there was already a long queue for the counters where female officials sat, processing the old identity documents and issuing new temporary ones.
The young Jew directed his family to the smaller queue, meant for those who didn't require immediate assistance. Both queues moved swiftly, and more Jews headed in the appropriate directions, mostly towards the buses parked in front of the station, which would take them to temporary centers designated for them.
The first person to stand before a woman who appeared to be in her forties was Zendel.
"Please present your documents and state your name," she said in German.
"Zendel Gryszpan, and you can speak Polish. I understand the language," Zendel replied in rusty but comprehensible Polish.
"I see. Please have a seat," the woman responded, slightly pleased, and then she clicked something on a strange typewriter-like device, transcribing the information from his ID card and passport.
"Born in Radomsko on the XX day of the X month, XXXX?" the woman asked as he sat on the peculiar plastic chair. He immediately sensed that the material he was sitting on was not natural.
"That's correct."
"Your parents?"
"Dawid and Miriam."
"Mother's maiden name?"
"Epstein."
"Educational background?"
"I completed primary school and was trained as a tailor," Zendel replied.
The woman looked at him, then clicked her tongue and muttered under her breath, weakly but still comprehensible, "Vocational."
"Occupation?"
"Tailor."
"Reason... sorry, mistake. What do you intend to be?"
"To the best of my ability, continue my profession," the older man confidently replied.
The woman looked at him strangely again, then entered something into that strange device and said, "It's not like you'll face much competition. Though I don't see much success in that field, it's largely become obsolete."
"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade," Zendel replied.
The woman agreed. "Well said, Mr. Gryszpan."
Then the strange machine, which he soon recognized as a printer, started working after the woman made a final click with the peculiar device. She then took out a folder and inserted the freshly printed sheets along with some strange colored ones featuring the Polish coat of arms and his documents inside.
"Considering that you have chosen a position for individuals with certain connections in Poland, you and your family are not entitled to a place in the refugee center. Therefore, for the next 7 days, you are required to stay in Szczecin to collect your ID card from the Municipal Office," the official informed Zendel in an officious tone.
"Furthermore, I inform you about a special non-repayable loan from the Ministry of Finance available to refugees for establishing their own place of work. To apply, you must submit an application through one of the designated organizations here. You will find more information in the brochure."
Zendel was astonished to hear this.
"In addition, you will receive a subsidized personal phone with an Orange Telekomunikacja Polska SIM card from the Union of Jewish Religious Communities," the woman took out a large black box with a prominent Orange logo on the side, containing a flat device that clearly resembled a phone. The label indicated it belonged to the Kruger&Matz brand.
"Do I understand correctly that the user manual is inside?" Zendel asked the woman, who smiled and shook her head.
"No, but you can ask one of those people," she pointed to a few individuals. "They are here to guide you through the first steps and teach you how to operate modern devices."
"Is that all?" Zendel asked.
"Yes," the woman replied, and Zendel gave up his place to his wife.
While the official attended to his wife, Zendel examined what he had received. First, he started flipping through the documents, which included numerous colorful pages written in three languages: Polish, German, and Yiddish. The Yiddish section immediately revealed that it had been hastily and rather blindly produced.
Meanwhile, his elder son became intrigued by the box with the phone. "Father, what is this?"
"A phone," Zendel replied without interrupting his reading.
"Such a small one?" Mordechaj exclaimed. "And where's the cord?"
"Welcome to the future, brother! That's how phones are made now, small enough to fit in your pocket and without a cord. Every Polish person has one," Herschel said.
"It must be expensive," Mordechaj remarked.
"Not really, the highest price is four thousand złoty," Herschel replied.
"That's a lot!" Mordechaj noticed.
"Perhaps in Germany, brother. But here in Poland, the minimum wage is three thousand four hundred złoty."
"Whose minimum wage? The manager of a steelworks?" Mordechaj asked incredulously.
"An ordinary worker, for example, a store clerk," Herschel replied, causing Mordechaj's jaw to drop.
"Did you hear, Father? Almost three and a half thousand for an ordinary laborer! Why didn't we come here earlier?" Mordechaj spoke up.
"Yes, and think for a moment. Would you believe it if you heard about it in the Reich?" Zendel asked his son, interrupting his reading.
Mordechaj pondered for a moment. "No..." Then he wanted to add something, but his mother called him.
"Mordechaj, it's your turn!"
The eldest son cut off halfway through a word before dejectedly moving to a plastic chair.
"So, what do we do, Zendel?" his wife asked him.
The head of the family didn't respond immediately. It was only after finishing reading the last brochure that he answered, "We make use of what life gives us and move forward."
"So?" she inquired.
"So, we make use of the assistance provided by those organizations and what the Polish government offers us. We'll try to find accommodation in Stettin and attempt to open a tailoring workshop here. The woman mentioned that it's a dying profession, so we don't have to worry about competition."
"Only about finding customers," Ryfka pointed out.
Zendel shrugged. "We managed despite the hostility from the Germans and the constant obstacles thrown at us by the Nazis. We will manage here as well."
"Isn't that right, Herschel?" he asked his younger son.
Herschel nodded. "Yes, Dad."
"That's good," Zendel replied. "So, my son, I hope you didn't idle away your time while waiting for us. Do you have something interesting?"
Herschel nodded again. "Yes! I have a few interesting locations. Some of the locals couldn't withstand the wave of crises and had to close down. They are offering to sell their premises at a low price."
Zendel perked up his ears.
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