By Grace Ramazani

As the number of adult Holocaust survivors is dwindling with the passing of time, there has been an increased demand for the stories of the younger generation of survivors in order to facilitate Holocaust education through the relaying of first-hand experiences. With this increased demand for child survivors, came a newfound interest in stories from hidden children. Hidden children were able to evade death and a fate in concentration camps by hiding from arrest and forced relocation, however, this evasion has previously been viewed as a premise to delegitimize their claims to be Holocaust survivors. As this manner of close-minded thinking is receding away, new voices have been able to make their own individual contributions to Holocaust education, such as hidden child survivor Serge Vanry. In his unpublished memoir, A Hidden Childhood, Serge Vanry battles the myth that hidden children are lucky to be left “unscathed” by their experiences in the Holocaust. Vanry’s memoir is available exclusively in digital format at the Vancouver Holocaust Education Center (VHEC), and includes accounts of his childhood, which demonstrates emotional trauma and a complex relationship with the psychological action of longing. This contribution will examine the life of Serge Vanry, drawing attention to one of the previously overlooked voices of Holocaust survivors to understand the role of longing in emotional trauma amongst hidden child survivors of the Holocaust, and what can be done to facilitate open spaces for survivors to share their stories and contribute to Holocaust education.

            Serge Vanry, originally born as Serge Wajnyrb, was born in Paris, France on June 22nd, 1931. Although his father, Solomon Wajnyrb was of Polish descent, and his mother Suzanne Kouchelewicz of Lithuanian descent, the family, including Vanry’s younger brother Edouard, was able to settle nicely into the 17th district in Paris. There, Vanry recounts having a pleasant childhood until the year 1940 when antisemitic legislation was introduced, severely limiting the basic freedoms his family had previously enjoyed. In 1941, the family was separated: his father, now prevented from continuing his work as a leather designer, left to try and establish a new home for the family in Vichy, France away from heavy persecution in Paris. In the following year, French policemen arrested Vanry’s mother and brother, who would later be deported to Auschwitz concentration camp. Edouard was eventually murdered in Auschwitz, but Vanry avoided this fate as his mother instructed him to run away to relatives in the countryside, where he would become a hidden child until liberation in 1944.

While liberation is typically viewed as a celebratory period, it did not erase the events Vanry experienced, nor did it prevent the manifestation of emotional trauma post-liberation. Years of his childhood had been lost to persecution, separation, loneliness, and futile attempts to replicate life as it was before the war. He immigrated to Vancouver in December 1947, where he would eventually plant his roots, start his own family, and have a successful career as a dentist. However, due to the emotional trauma he suffered, and discouragement from his peers, he was unable to share his story with others, leading to a complex relationship with his past. Galiya Rabinovitch and Efrat Kass, two academics examining the correlation between longing and hidden child survivors, explain that child survivors of the Holocaust were stripped away from much of their identity in the war, and in denying or suppressing their longing of what they lost, they were unable to retrieve these parts of themselves (455). It was only when approached by open-minded individuals who were eager to hear his remarkable story, that Vanry was able to confront and acknowledge his longing for the past, which permitted him to contribute to Holocaust education through his testimony, memoir, and educational talks in front of schools and congregations.

Due to the emotional trauma associated with their childhood, Holocaust survivors hold a complex relationship with the act of longing. Longing is defined as the process of clinging to a vanished object, and is a multistep process of examination, assessment, and choosing (Rabinovitch and Kass, 446-447). In examination, the individual examines the gap between their present and their past, in relation to the vanished object they long for. In assessment, the individual assesses whether they can narrow that gap, deciding whether the object is retrievable or irrevocably lost. Finally, a choice is made to cope with the feeling of longing, and the individual will either close the gap if they decide the object of longing is retrievable or deny their longing if they feel it is lost. Longing is not to be confused with nostalgia, as nostalgia “is generalized and idyllic longing for the past” (446). Longing acknowledges the negative aspects of the past, but still instills a feeling of wanting to reconnect with or repossess the vanished object. The theory of longing relates specifically to Serge Vanry’s life experiences, as well as other child survivors of the Holocaust alike, due to the traumatic and violent circumstances surrounding his separation from his family and the subsequent attempts to piece back together a lost childhood and a past that is longed for.

Hidden child survivors suffered many losses: separation from their families often meant the loss of their home and loved ones, they also lost their identities as they had to take on new ones while in hiding to evade suspicion and arrest, and many lost their childhood to years of fighting for survival. As a hidden child survivor of the Holocaust himself, Dr. Robert Krell, Professor of Psychiatry at the University of British Columbia and Founding President and Board Member of the VHEC, holds great insight into how hidden child survivors were taught to view their past and cope with longing. Krell shares that many were taught to view the past as lost; to let go of memories of the past and to not speak of it further, effectively denying any longing they may possess from their past (Rabinovitch and Kass, 444). Used as a coping mechanism, the denial of longing is a habit that fails to address emotional wounds left behind by traumatic experiences. As is seen in Vanry’s memoir and testimony, it makes it so that revisiting elements that may bring back memories of the object of longing are too painful, whether that be speaking one’s native language, visiting their home country, keeping in contact with family members, or sharing stories of their experience. Analyzing Vanry’s reflections on his childhood with the framework of longing in mind, presents a clearer understanding of the emotional trauma suffered by hidden child survivors.

            Beginning with examination, the first step in the longing process, Vanry’s examination of his past reveals a fond outlook of his childhood in Paris before the war. Despite having roots in Poland and Lithuania, Vanry and his family were able to integrate well into Parisian society socially, economically, and culturally. His father, Solomon, had a successful career as a leather designer, which permitted his family to own a car while many in their neighbourhood did not, and have the ability to go on holidays regularly (Serge. V Testimony 1990, 13:30). Born and raised in Paris, Vanry was practically indistinguishable from any other French-born child. In speaking of his peers, Vanry states, “to me . . . they were neither Jewish nor non-Jewish—they were just the neighbourhood kids I went to school with” (Vanry, A Hidden Childhood, 6). Vanry’s identity as Jewish did not prohibit him in any way from enjoying his childhood with the other neighbourhood children, and in his 1990 interview with Dr. Robert Krell, Serge V. Testimony 1990, he mentions that he regularly attended the Catholic youth group with his friends. His attendance was not a problem for the priest, who welcomed him with open arms, nor was it a source of conflict within his family, as Vanry and his family were Jewish, but they were not religious (6). Apart from a few cultural practices, such as circumcising the sons, or equipping the home with Jewish foodstuffs, it was quite difficult to distinguish the Vanry family as different in any way. Paris was home, their neighbours were their friends, and life was joyous. The war would later take this away from Vanry, making it an object of longing.

Things changed in 1940 with the German occupation of France in 1940, which also came with antisemitic regulations that would shatter the joy Vanry previously held in Paris. In the spring of 1940, the Wehrmacht, the unified armed forces of Nazi Germany, marched into Paris and it became an occupied zone in France. The first anti-Jewish ordinance “defined Jews, ordered a general census of Jews, and the affixation of a ‘JEWISH BUSINESS’ poster in every shop owned or managed by a Jew” (Joly, 561). This was particularly traumatizing for Vanry who had previously viewed himself as equal amongst his peers but was now branded with a yellow star identifying him as a Jew. In his interview, he mentions that in his youth he questioned how German authorities were able to know he was Jewish in the first place, as he had regarded himself as a well-integrated individual (16:06). The branding with the star brought upon feelings of shame, as it was a physical and constant reminder that one was an ‘other’ in society, and inherently different. It wasn’t long before anti-Jewish ordinances turned more aggressive towards the Jewish population.

The gradual implementation of antisemitic rules and regulations were followed by raids and pogroms, the seizing of businesses, prohibition from entering certain public spaces such as pools and movie theatres, and outright violence against Jews in Paris. The place he had called home and that had been a source of fond memories had been forcibly taken away from Vanry, widening the gap between his happy childhood and his traumatic upbringing after 1940. These implementations also marked the beginning of loss that would systematically break down his family unit. In 1941, as a result of having his business seized from him, Vanry’s father made the decision to leave his family and go to Vichy, France to attempt to establish a new home for them in the unoccupied zone (Vanry, A Hidden Childhood, 8). The family was further fragmented at 4 am on July 16th, 1942, when French policemen appeared at their door to arrest Vanry’s family as part of the Vel d’Hiv roundup (8). As a result of the mass arrest, 12,884 Jews were arrested in Paris out of 27,391 arrest cards. (Joly, 567). Vanry was amongst the Jews who escaped arrest, as his mother had instructed him to remove his identification star and flee to the countryside to stay with family friends. He would remain in hiding for the next two years, where life progressively became even more difficult, further widening the gap that is perceived in the examination process.

In the second step of longing, the assessment process, Vanry assesses whether the object of longing, in this case reunion with his family and a return to life as it was before the war, is retrievable. Vanry experienced the most emotional hardship during his time in hiding, especially due to being separated from his family. The gap between his past and life in hiding in the countryside had grown and, in his time away, he was forced into unfavourable situations for the sake of survival. He had to hide away in his family friend’s house in the off chance that police came checking, where he was welcomed and treated kindly, but nevertheless held onto the feeling of being an outcast. He credits his survival to luck, especially as there were multiple occasions where things could have gone very wrong, especially when he eventually crossed the border into Vichy. Picked up by his uncle at his family friend’s house, Vanry went with his uncle, aunt, and cousins to find a passeur, a man who would accept a sum of money to aid them across the border into the unoccupied zone (Vanry, A Hidden Childhood, 11). The area was patrolled by dogs and German guards, and detection would lead to murder, however they were lucky to make it across safely. In an article written by Stéphanie Trouillard, historian Jacques Sémelin states that French Jews were able to make it to Vichy and survive persecution due to the web of social relationships they possessed, as they were well integrated in French society. Sympathy to their cause by fellow French citizens helped them avoid detection, however there still existed the risk of rejection from the people they sought shelter from and arrest by suspicion. Additionally, Vanry explains the mental toll hiding took on him, as he felt extreme loneliness during this period of time and is unsure how he was able to hold on and survive (Vanry, A Hidden Childhood, 14). Times looked bleak, but he held on.

However, amidst all the sadness, a postcard to his mother sent sometime between the years 1942-43 show a sliver of hope amongst the suffering. In the postcard, Vanry states he has heard good news about his family’s health, and states that “this leads [him] to believe and hope, more and more that [their] separation will be short lived and that [they] will be together with little brother Doudou very soon”. The postcard and its hopeful tone reflect the assessment process, as Vanry clearly states a desire to reunite with his family. In this, his family is the object of longing and his motivation for survival. In the assessment, the past seems within reach and there is hope that liberation will bring things back to normal, as well as bring the family back together. However, liberation was a small relief but not a resolution. Everybody had changed in their time away: Vanry had a newfound independence from his time in hiding that changed the dynamic with his parents, his younger brother was dead, his mother returned from Auschwitz a shell of the woman she used to be and was practically unrecognizable to Vanry, they had lost their house, and were forced to relocate to a different, smaller apartment. Ultimately, too much had changed for things to be the way they were before. Vanry states that he “slowly came to realize that [they] as a family had been damaged. [Their] family was never going to be the way it had been before” (16). This was a moment of realization that the past, as it used to be, was not retrievable, leading to their immigration to Canada.

            After examining and assessing comes the act of choosing; a decision must be made as to how to best deal with the feeling of longing. Displacement through immigration may place distance between an individual and the source of trauma, but it does not heal the scars. As Vanry and his parents settled into Vancouver and tried to establish new roots in Canada, Vanry found himself to be an outcast amongst the Jewish community. As he had been immersed in French culture in Paris, his manner of living did not fully align with the Jewish people in his new community. Furthermore, while he wanted to share the details of his life, it seemed that the others did not want to hear it. Instead, they preached that survivors should not dwell on the past so much and talk of such negative experiences, instead they should be appreciative that they survived and focus on the present and the future (Vanry, 21). It also did not help that people regarded child survivors as having dodged all forms of trauma by escaping concentration camps. The others advocated for the coping mechanism of denying one’s longing, however that yielded negative outcomes. Vanry recounts discomfort sharing stories with even those closest to him, including his wife and his children. Additionally, he did not feel comfortable teaching his children French, associating the language with his previous home and source of trauma (24). Denying longing drew a line firmly between a past, where one is meant to detach themselves from, and the future one is meant to focus on. Attitudes like this do not facilitate conversations and diminish the number of people willing to be vulnerable and tell their story. In times where we are trying to facilitate conversations to support Holocaust education, the importance of permitting survivors to open up becomes even more essential.

            Vanry was able to make his legacy and contribution to Holocaust education by acknowledging his longing of the past and establishing a healthy relationship with it. At age 60, he began attending therapy sessions with fellow hidden child survivor Dr. Robert Krell, who introduced him to a hidden child group (25). Surrounded by peers who had lived through similar circumstances as his, Vanry was able to share his story with others, which eventually led to

public speaking opportunities. At these talks, he was able to unleash a lot of the burden he had previously been holding on to, healing his emotional trauma by sharing his experiences and talking through it. Eventually he was able to return to France, a place he had associated with his source of trauma and revisit the family who had hidden him with while in Vichy. Addressing his longing head on, rather than sticking to the shared advice of suppressing it and moving on, permitted him to make contributions to Holocaust education that benefitted his own personal emotional and mental health.

            Longing plays an essential role when it comes to the emotional trauma of hidden child survivors of the Holocaust. Serge Vanry’s memoir is both a trove of information on his own life experiences, as well as a source that can be used to identify how we can best interact with survivors to facilitate spaces where they can openly discuss their experiences. First-hand accounts are best for understanding events, and in the case of the Holocaust the number of people we can hear from who have experienced it first-hand are already low. Doing away with the notion that survivors should deny their longing for the past could lead to more survivors, like Vanry, coming forward with their stories, so that we may learn from the past and prevent such tragedies from recurring in the future.

Works Cited

Joly, Laurent. “The Parisian Police and the Holocaust: Control, Roundups, Hunt, 1940–4.” Journal of Contemporary History, vol. 55, no. 3, July 2020, pp. 557–578, doi:10.1177/0022009419839774.

Postcard from Serge to his Mother (1942-43), https://collections.vhec.org/Detail/objects/7836

Rabinovitch, Galiya, and Efrat Kass. “Avoiding Longing: the Case of ‘Hidden Children’ in the Holocaust.” Israel Affairs 22.2 (2016): 444-458.

Trouillard, Stéphanie. “How Three-Quarters of French Jews Survived the Holocaust, despite the Vichy Regime.” France 24, France 24, 27 Jan. 2022, https://www.france24.com/en/europe/20220127-how-three-quarters-of-french-jews-survived-the-holocaust-despite-the-vichy-regime.

Vanry, Serge. A Hidden Childhood. Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, 2017.

Vanry, Serge. “Serge V. Testimony 1990.” Interview conducted by Dr. Robert Krell. Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre. 1990. https://collections.vhec.org/Detail/objects/464