Tender

Near Erlangen, German, about 1944. By the time this woman—a medical-school classmate of my Mom's—gave Mom this snapshot, the woman's husband had long departed for the Eastern Front.

"Welcome to U.S.A.!"

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Atlantic Ocean, July 2, 1949. This is the last newletter the General Howze issued prior to docking in New York City. My friend Kris's Uncle Al did the artwork and hand lettering for the piece.

Thanks to Kris for making this document available to us.

A Closer Look (Part 72)

Kačerginė, Lithuania, Summer 1940. Although it was a difficult summer, Jonė found reasons to smile.

Here's the original post.

Immigration

The New Zealand National Film Unit presents a 1949 piece about Displaced Persons.

Coiffed

Kaunas, Lithuania, 1943. Here's another image from Mom's photo shoot.

Freedom Monument

Kaunas, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic, June 6, 1989. My Mom's friend Joy wrote, "I stand at the Freedom Monument, near Kaunas's War Museum."

Wedding Day

Kaunas, Lithuania, 1939. The Parents of my Mom's Goddaughter marry.

A View of the Displaced Persons Camps

From the "No Home to Go To" Exhibit.

Why we don't know much about Stalin.

"Americans might be less receptive because of our own mythology of the Second World War. Anything that detracts from that simplified portrait is often unwelcome. Tales of Nazi horrors inflate the American experience and place American efforts front and center. Discussion of the central role of the Soviet Union, and its 20 million dead, deflates American experience and pushes American efforts to the margins."

A Friend's Mother

 

Kaunas, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic, November 11, 1978. This is the mother of my Mom's friend Joy. On the back of this photo, Joy wrote, "This is my Mama, Marija, in Kaunas when she reached her 80th birthday. From 1941 she endured 17 years in the Siberian prison camp, along the shores of the Laptev Sea. We survived those years in Stalin's prison listening to propaganda."

The MV Wilhelm Gustloff . . .

. . . sank 71 years ago today. Over 9,000 passengers—including many Displaced Persons—died.

Camp Leader

Hanau, Germany, about 1946. My friend Nijole's Father addresses the Displaced-Persons camp residents. Read more about Nijole's postwar experiences here.

Thanks to my friend Nijole for making this photo available to us.

Background

Hanau, Germany, about 1946. This girl in this photo is Nijole. She stands with her Parents, her maternal Grandmother, and a family friend near the Displaced-Persons camp. Nijole writes, "But who were those ominous men in the ruins??" You can read more about Nijole's experience here.

Thanks to my friend Nijole for making this photo available to us.

The Older Generation

Seligenstadt, Germany, about 1947. My maternal Grandfather Jake (third from left) stands with group of Displaced Persons at the camp. Jake was in his late forties when he fled Lithuania.

War Room

When my Dad was a Displaced Person, he collected several folders of reproduced art prints. The subject matter of the prints is primarily related to World War II. Some prints also are representative of the German inter-war Expressionist movement.

Schweinfurt, Germany, about 1946. This piece is by Willi Geiger.

Exchanging Portraits (Part 56)

Dresden, Germany, 1944. A cousin of Mr. Irene's Dad adjusts to life as a Displaced Person.

Exchanging Portraits (Part 55)

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Leipzig, Germany, December 13, 1944. My Mom's friend wrote:

Oh how we could use some luck,
if only a little
if only as much as
the blooming flower on the window ...

The friend's imagery derives from a winter incident Mom recalls. The barracks in which Mom stayed had no central heating.* Mom kept a vase on the window sill. Once, although the water in the vase froze overnight, the flower kept blooming.

*Mom would heat an iron before going to sleep, and she placed it on the mattress so the bedding warmed.

A Remembrance from Mr. Irene

My Dad passed away very peacefully Friday evening, November 6, 2015, in the consoling company of his family.

He suffered a number of complications after breaking his leg last December. After some strong and stable months in the Spring, he succumbed to a severe bone infection and ultimately, sepsis.

Dad lived a life filled with the joys of hard work and devotion to his family; enlivened by Lithuanian wit and humor; and strengthened by an optimistic, American heart.

Like so many of his countrymen, Dad escaped the fierce advance of Soviet troops through Lithuania by escaping into Germany and then Austria in the final year of World War II. In the years immediately after the end of the war, Dad and some of his immediate family lived as Displaced Persons (DPs) in camps established by the Allies in Germany. It was an atmosphere of chaos, danger, and uncertainty.

Lithuanian and Polish nationals living in DP camps in the American zone near Frankfurt were invited by the U.S. Army to apply for support security roles guarding both German and American assets. Dad enlisted in the Lithuanian canine patrol corps and was assigned to the U.S. base camp at Kaiserlautern. (That camp would grow over the years into NATO headquarters. The last photo below shows my Dad in 1948 sharing a laugh with visiting U.S. Army brass. It's my favorite image of Dad from that time.)

From that post, Dad observed the start of the Berlin Airlift after the Soviets blockaded that city. He did nightly patrols around the forest surrounding the camp. His devoted partner was Arno, a loyal and beautiful German Shepard. Dad checks up on Arno (at Arno's barracks) in this first photo (from 1947) below. Dad is 19 years old in that photo.

Dad celebrated his 21st birthday by sailing past the Statue of Liberty into New York Harbor aboard the USS General Hann. In the second photo below, taken just after the immigrants had disembarked from the ship, you'll see Dad (second from left) with white hair—encrusted in sea salt as he paced the outer decks. Within hours, Dad was on a train to Chicago to begin his new life in America under the kind sponsorship of an uncle who had emigrated from Lithuania in the 1920s.

Shortly after their arrival, my Dad and his older brother, my late Uncle Ignas, were drafted for service in the Korean War. The third photo below shows a farewell outing for Ignas (center) in October, 1950 in Chicago's Grant Park. My Dad stands on the far left. One year later, Dad was drafted for U.S. Army service at Camp Irwin in the Mojave desert east of Los Angeles. He served as a tank instructor, running daredevil maneuvers in the endless sand dunes.

Before President Truman left office, he determined that foreign nationals who had served in the Korean conflict were to be granted U.S. citizenship upon their honorable discharge.

Dad returned to Chicago in 1953 and worked in manufacturing jobs until his retirement. By 1959, our family had moved to Melrose Park, where Dad worked for Benjamin Moore and Co producing paints and stains for the next 35 years. In the penultimate photo, Dad stands front of our Melrose Park home, circa 1965.

Thank you, Dad, for you service—not only to your adopted country but to your family until the day you breathed your last. We love and miss you more than you could imagine.

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Chilly Season

Unknown location, Germany, Autumn 1944. Roadside shrines are common in Europe.

Profile

Kaunas, Lithuania, 1943. The photographer chose several angles.