After WWII, seventy-five years ago, Mr. Massler saved my father’s life. Massler was a good and brave man. I often wondered what his fate was. Last year my question was answered. With this new information I was compelled to add a postscript to my memoir. The postscript follows:

Postscript

The last story

Mom told me one last story on a Saturday afternoon. I had stopped by her assisted living apartment for one of my frequent visits. She was 82 and in failing health. She was sitting in her favorite easy chair beside the window. I pulled up a kitchen chair and we were talking. Mom appeared to remember something and unprompted, told me a story from her past. She told me about Mr. Massler. His story is found in chapters 2 and 7. Massler was Dad’s Jewish friend. They had been classmates at a Romanian prep school. Massler’s family owned one of the finest stores in Bistritz.

Many of Mom’s stories were corroborated by the documents my parents had saved and by research. This last story was not corroborated until 2020.

Good men. Courageous men.

The Romanian-Hungarian border was changed in 1940; we now lived in Hungary. The fascist Hungarian government treated Jews the same way the Nazis did. It was decreed that it was illegal to do business with Jews. Despite being an officer in the Hungarian army reserves, Dad continued to do business secretly with Massler at considerable risk to himself.

In May 1944, Dad left home to fight the Russians. Mom told me that Massler had been sent to a Nazi concentration camp. She said that Mr. Massler survived, returned to Bistritz, and was appointed the communist police commissioner.

Dad was released from a Russian POW camp on August 28, 1945. He returned home to the family farm, but his family was gone. He did not know where we were or if we had survived the war. The communist authorities had been conducting nighttime arrest raids since January 1945. They were arresting Transylvanian Saxons of working age and political opponents. All arrested Saxons were sent off to slave labor camps in Russia. Massler protected Dad by warning him of impending raids. Massler’s courage cannot be overstated.

Considering my father’s poor health, had he been arrested, he would not have survived the arduous train trip to a slave labor camp. His body would have been thrown out of the rail car without a burial. My brother and I would have grown up without our father. My brother would have missed him terribly. I would have had no memories of him.

Oppression and killing were back in full bloom, only now the communists were in charge.

I often wondered what Mr. Massler’s fate was. He was a good and courageous man. A true friend. A man of character.

Question answered 

In January 2020, I posted a short version of the “Massler story” on my book’s Facebook page. About one month later I received a response, stating, “I am Mr. Massler’s daughter.” I was in shock. I was in an emotional state. Could this be true? Is it a scam?

It was not a scam. It was real. I had been contacted by Mr. Massler’s daughter. She responded to my post. We have been in email contact since then. For the first time, she heard the story of our fathers’ friendship and their noble actions. I then learned what had happened to the man who saved Dad’s life 75 years ago.

Mr. Massler’s daughter disclosed that he had been sent to a slave labor camp where he was terribly mistreated and severely beaten. He was liberated by the Soviets. While he was in the camp, his wife, Magda Mandel, his five-year-old daughter, Juli, his parents, his sister and niece were taken to Auschwitz and gassed. After his return to Romania, he remarried. His daughter from the second marriage is the one who contacted me. She was named after the daughter he had lost to the Nazis.

Mr. Massler became a communist. Eventually he was appointed the communist police commissioner. His daughter recalled that he had not been a dedicated communist.

In 1958 Illuliu Massler (I had not previously known his first name) immigrated to Israel and began a new life in a new country. Some of his extended family had moved to Germany and had a good life there, but he wanted nothing to do with Germans. Making a break from the past, he changed his children’s names to Hebrew names. He is survived by two daughters and four grandchildren. He lived to the age of 78 and was an exceptionally good father.

The daughter who contacted me was thrilled to hear of the goodness and kindness of her father and his part in my family’s story. I was humbled to give her my memoir. As we continued to exchange emails, she sent me a picture of her father. When I first saw the picture of the man who had saved my father’s life 75 years ago, I had tears in my eyes.

As his daughter told me, “The world can learn much from our fathers.”

Gerhard Maroscher

February 21, 2021
Circleville, Ohio