Certain things stuck with them. We would be walking along the street and Mum would bend down and pluck a four-or five-leaf clover from the ground, because when she was in the camp if you found one and gave it to the German soldiers, who believed they were lucky, you received an extra portion of soup and bread. With Dad, it was the lack of emotion and heightened survival instinct that remained with him, to the point where even when his sister passed away he did not shed a tear. When I asked him about this, he said that after seeing death on such a grand scale for so many years, and after losing his parents and brother, he found he was unable to weep – that is, until Mum passed away. It was the first time I had ever seen him cry.
Most of all, I remember the warmth at home, always filled with love, smiles, affection, food and my father’s sharp dry wit. It was truly an amazing environment to grow up in and I will always be grateful to my parents for showing me this way of life.
Additional information
Lale was born Ludwig Eisenberg on 28 October 1916 in Krompachy, Slovakia. He was transported to Auschwitz on 23 April 1942 and tattooed with the number 32407.
Gita was born Gisela Fuhrmannova (Furman) on 11 March 1925 in Vranov nad Topl’ou, Slovakia. She was transported to Auschwitz on 13 April 1942 and tattooed with the number 34902, and she was re-tattoed by Lale in July when she moved from Auschwitz to Birkenau.
Lale’s parents, Jozef and Serena Eisenberg, were transported to Auschwitz on 26 March 1942 (while Lale was still in Prague). Research has uncovered that they were killed immediately upon arrival at Auschwitz. Lale never knew this. It was discovered after his death.
Lale was imprisoned in the Strafkompanie (penal unit) from 16 June to 10 July 1944, where he was tortured by Jakub. No one was expected to survive or be released from that unit.
Gita’s neighbour Mrs Goldstein survived and made her way home to Vranov nad Topl’ou.
Cilka was charged as a Nazi conspirator and sentenced to fifteen years’ hard labour, which she served in Siberia. Afterwards she returned to Bratislava. She and Gita met only once, in the mid-1970s, when Gita went to visit her two brothers.
In 1961 Stefan Baretski was tried in Frankfurt and sentenced to life imprisonment for war crimes. On 21 June 1988 he committed suicide in the Konitzky-Sift Hospital in Bad Nauheim, Germany.
Gita died on 3 October 2003.
Lale died on 31 October 2006.
For further resources, information, maps, photographs, video, documents, or to find out more about the author, please visit:
thetattooistofauschwitz.com
heathermorris.com.au
Acknowledgements
For 12 years Lale’s story existed as a screenplay. My vision always played out on a screen – big or small, it didn’t matter. It now exists as a novel, and I get to thank and acknowledge the importance of all those who stepped on and off the journey with me, and those who stayed the distance.
Gary Sokolov – you have my gratitude and love always for allowing me into your father’s life and supporting me 100 per cent in the telling of your parents’ incredible story. You never wavered in your confidence that I would get to this point.
Glenda Bawden – my boss of twenty-one years who turned a blind eye to my sneaking out to meet with Lale and others who were helping me develop the script. And my colleagues, past and present in the Social Work Department at Monash Medical Centre.
David Redman, Shana Levine, Dean Murphy, Ralph Moser at Instinct Entertainment to whom I was doing most of the ‘sneaking out’ to. Thank you for your passion and commitment to this project over many years.
Lisa Savage and Fabian Delussu for their brilliant investigative skills in researching the ‘facts’ to ensure history and memory waltzed perfectly in step. Thank you so much.
Thanks to Film Victoria for their financial support with the research undertaken for the original film script version of Lale’s story.
Lotte Weiss – survivor – thank you for your support and sharing your memories of Lale and Gita with me.
Shaun Miller – my lawyer, you know how to do a deal. Thanks.
My Kickstarter backers. Thank you so much for being the first to get behind the telling of this story as a novel. Your support is greatly appreciated. You are: Bella Zefira, Thomas Rice, Liz Attrill, Bruce Williamson, Evan Hammond, David Codron, Natalie Wester, Angela Meyer, Suzie Squire, George Vlamakis, Ahren Morris, Ilana Hornung, Michelle Tweedale, Lydia Regan, Daniel Vanderlinde, Azure-Dea Hammond, Stephanie Chen, Snowgum Films, Kathie Fong Yoneda, Rene Barten, Jared Morris, Gloria Winstone, Simon Altman, Greg Deacon, Steve Morris, Suzie Eisfelder, Tristan Nieto, Yvonne Durbridge, Aaron K., Lizzie Huxley-Jones, Kerry Hughes, Marcy Downes, Jen Sumner, Chany Klein, Chris Key.
This book and all that flows from it would not exist without the amazing, the wonderful, the talented, Angela Meyer, the Echo commissioning editor at Bonnier Publishing Australia. I will be forever in your debt, and like Lale I feel you, too, are under my skin for all time. You embraced this story with a passion and desire to match my own. You have wept and laughed with me as the story unfolded. I saw in you someone who found herself walking in Lale and Gita’s shoes. You felt their pain, their love, and you inspired me to write to the best of my ability. Thank you does not seem enough, but thank you I do.
Angela was not alone at Echo in making this book a reality. Kay Scarlett, Sandy Cull for her amazing cover design, Shaun Jury for internals. Ned Pennant-Rae and Talya Baker, copy editors extraordinaire and Ana Vucic for your proofreading in presenting the finished product. For extra editorial assistance, Cath Ferla and Kate Goldsworthy. Clive Hebard for managing the final stages of the publishing process. Thank you all so much.
There is a team in London at Bonnier Zaffre headed by Kate Parkin whose championing of this book and dedication to getting it to as many corners of the world as they can means I am forever in their debt. Thank you, Kate. Thank you to Mark Smith and Ruth Logan. And to Richard Johnson and Julian Shaw of Bonnier Publishing for seeing immediately the worth of this story.
To my brother Ian Williamson and sister-in-law Peggi Shea, who gave me their house in Big Bear, California in the middle of their winter for a month to write the first draft. Thanks to you and your fine accommodation, to paraphrase Sir Edmund Hillary: ‘I knocked the bugger off.’
A special thank you to my son-in-law Evan and sister-in-law Peggi for the small but not insignificant part you each played in my making the decision to adapt my screenplay into a novel. You know what you did!
Thanks to my brothers John, Bruce and Stuart who have supported me unreservedly and remind me Mum and Dad would’ve been so proud.
My dear friends Kathie Fong-Yoneda and Pamela Wallace whose love and support over the years to get this story told, no matter what format, I appreciate beyond words.
To my friend Harry Blutstein whose interest and writing tips over the years I hope to have taken on board and done you proud.
The Holocaust Museum in Melbourne where Lale took me on several occasions, acting as my ‘living’ tour guide. You opened my eyes to the world Lale and Gita survived.
My sons Ahren and Jared who opened their hearts and minds to Lale and let him into our family life with love and reverence.
My daughter Azure-Dea. Lale met you when you were eighteen, the same age Gita was when he met her. He told me he fell a little bit in love with you on that first day. For the next three years every time I saw him his opening line was, ‘How are you and how is your beautiful daughter?’ Thank you for letting him flirt with you a little and the smile you put on his face.
To my children’s partners – thank you Bronwyn, Rebecca and Evan.
Steve, my darling husband of forty-something years. I recall a time you asked me if you should be jealous of Lale as I was spending so much time with him. Yes and no. You were there for me when I would come home sullen and depressed at having taken on board the horror Lale shared with me. You opened our home to him and let him into our family with honour and respect. I know you will continue this journey by my side.