A World War II Draftee––70 Years ago

Blitzbuggy at the Draft Office, Chicago, 1/23/1943

Seventy years ago today, my grandparents and newly married parents faced a foreboding task, one that was shared by just about everyone in America with a  young man of draft age in the family.

On January 23, 1943, they climbed into Dad's Model A Ford and drove the five blocks from their home down Chicago's Washington Boulevard to the draft office, where my Dad's ten-year younger brother, Frank Ebner Gartz, would officially report to begin the training to become a navigator for the Army Air Corps in World War II.

Gartz Family, January 16, 1943 L-R top Fred (Dad), 
Will, Ebner. Seated: Lil (Mom), Josef, & Lisi Gartz

The photo to the right is the first "Gartz Family Photo" that includes my mother. Taken just two months after my parents married, and one week before Ebner was drafted, my guess is that my grandmother wanted a family picture with the "new Mrs. Gartz" as part of the family before her youngest son left for training. 

I know the dates of both  photos because each was labeled, but the car photo had more than a date. Coming upon it, I saw only an unremarkable old car parked on a snowy street, with no identifiable people. But it was on the back where I learned the critical event this photo documented.

Prior to finding the photo of the car, Blitzbuggy had only existed in family lore. My father had probably told us what vintage the dear little car was, but it hadn’t stuck in my memory. Dad’s notes not only identified the car--its year, model, and make--but also recorded the contribution Blitzbuggy had made to one of the pivotal events of the 20th Century -- and our family’s connection to it. 

Here are his exact words--in italics (my comments are in brackets. Parentheses are his):

January 23, 1943

Ebner’s drafting. Saying farewell. Grandma [Dad's mother] in Blitzbuggy (1929 Model A Ford). Lil [my mother] on right side. [Only the back of her coat and hair are visible.]

In front of the Draft board
4748 W. Washington Blvd. Chicago, Ill 

Frank Ebner, (ABE-ner) Gartz, born May 14, 1924, was  my grandparents’ youngest son. His middle name was taken from my grandmother, Lisi’s, maiden name, one you’ve read in numerous past posts.

The photo reveals a familiar Chicago winter scene: the snow is piled on the sidewalks, and greystone apartment buildings, typical of the city, form a backdrop. The entire atmosphere of the photo--its blurry focus, the gloomy, colorless weather, the faces of the two women in the photo hidden or indiscernible, the lone black auto on a strangely empty street--create a visual metaphor for the emotions of a family about to send its youngest off to war.

This date also started a flurry of letters back and forth between Ebner, as everyone in the family called Frank, and his family and friends. I hope to post excerpts of several of the letters, on or close to the day they were written. So keep tuned.

Note: parts of this post were published in February, 2011.

An odd fellow-missing World War I

World War I trench warfare
photo credit: www.anunews.net/blog

Last week’s photos pictured Josef and Lisi Gartz, with their two young sons, Friedrich and Wilhelm happy and healthy in Chicago about early 1916 (see below) and again in the summer of 1918. (See Family and Dead Dog).


These family photos were taken at the same time that Europe was engulfed in the nightmare of World War I, and most young men of Josef's age (25 in 1914)  would have been covered in lice, crouching and rotting in some trench, being blown up or blowing up other young men. 


My grandmother’s brother, Samuel, was one of those young men (See The Fallen-Part I).

Gartz Family ~ 1915-1916
L-R Lisi, Will, Fred, Josef

Let’s jump back four-six years before these family photos were taken, 100 years ago, to the spring of 1912. Josef and Lisi had married five months earlier and were both working seven days a week, Josef for fourteen hours a day, Lisi for twelve hours a day. They were barely getting by, but they had jobs.

Military Draft Notice, Josef Gartz
Austro-Hungary

Josef most certainly could have been among the dead had he stayed in Siebenbürgen (Transylvania). (See Drafted 100 Years Ago, where Josef's draft notice is translated to English).


But the first year after Lisi and Josef had married in Chicago, my grandmother’s former employer, Mrs. Jickeli, saw only youthful indiscretion in their decision to emigrate to America. Two months after Lisi and Josef married in Chicago on October 13, 1911, Mrs. Jickeli had written Lisi Ebner a letter expressing her dismay at Lisi's hasty departure to join her love, Josef Gärtz. She had chastised them both for their impetuous behavior and a host of issues, even declaring their marriage wouldn't be  considered valid in their homeland Siebenbürgen (because it hadn't been announced in the church).

She reiterated her concerns in a second letter, three months later, in what today we might say was “beating a dead horse," even if a stick of a slightly different length!

Merchant's wife, Berta Jickeli
born Henriette Albertine Krasser

March 15, 1912 

My Dear Lisi, 

Are you satisfied with your home (apartment)? Have you been employed long and how does Gärtz like the cooking spoon? [Josef was working in a restaurant when Lisi arrived]. That you live in peace makes me happy. I have certainly never doubted that Gärtz seems like a good man (Mensch). I have always considered him to be a good and respectable/honest/decent man, but a bit of an odd fellow.
 
But you also know that I am too old and have seen too much of life to scream “Hurrah!” A happy marriage is very rare in life and to be sure, even more rare because no one holds his fate strictly in one’s own hands and no one knows what tomorrow brings. Besides that, marriage seems different after 10-20 years than in the first year. That you will experience, just as everyone has. For you and Gärtz it’s just that you went into your marriage so fast and with such impatience. 

You will have to go through double the work and sacrifice and homesickness than you would have endured if you had waited one more year. Even our Lord God cannot reverse your fate. First Gärtz will have to comply with his military duty if nothing changes. Without you coming here, for the time, then the second thing that has to be is that your marriage must also be declared binding here. This is the only way a later happiness can bloom.

Mrs. Jickeli ends her letter with a few paragraphs of local news and heartfelt wishes, for after all, she was like a second mother to Lisi, and sincerely worried for her. 

And now, dear Lisi, I wish you both very well, and don't grow tired before you again have a strong foundation under your feet. We all greet you both from our hearts, and I remain for all time––Your old mother
Berta Jickeli


Berta Jickeli was right in one regard: people certainly don't have complete control over their fates, as all those who've been caught in war know so well. Yet Josef had influenced his fate, and the fate of his family, through his determination to get to America. The letters make it clear that friends and relatives back in Siebenbürgen/Transylvania expected he and Lisi would return. They didn't know Josef very well.

So when another serious problem emerged back in Transylvania after Josef left for America, his swift decision to leave his countryland again appeared to those back home to have been foolhardy. Apparently some local person had taken advantage of Josef’s departure, perhaps in cahoots with a local official, and co-opted from Josef his home and land. Both Lisi's father and Mrs. Jickeli weighed in on what had happened. Coming up next time at Family Archaeologist.

Family poses with baby on dead dog!

Growing Family: Lisi and Josef Gartz with sons,
Wilhelm, standing; Friedrich on dad's knee.Late 1915 or early 1916. 

Last week I posted photos of my mother taken in 1918, showing the dual sides of her personality. . On this page are are family photos of the Gartz family, the one below taken about the same time as my Mom's photos. Lisi, my paternal grandmother made sure the family had regular formal portraits taken, sending copies back home to both her and Josef's families in Romania. I have many letters thanking her for the pictures.

If you've been following along, you know this blog started with the postcards and love letters from Josef Gärtz to his sweetheart, Lisi Ebner (see Can Love Last 100 Years?), many of which were written as he made way toward America from Transylvania. You can read more of  Josef's diary recounting that harrowing trip, including Terror Atop the Train, if you scroll down on the right side of this page, to "Blog Archives," and click on "December, 2010."

In the photo above, my dad (I'd say he's about 12-14 months old)  is standing on his father's knee. 

Below is a photograph that hadn't been part of any family album, and I only recently discovered it.  Maybe the full content explains why. 

My grandparents, Josef and Lisi, are on the left, and their sons, Wilhelm (nicknamed "Helmie" as a little boy) and my dad, Fred (left) are seated. I don't know the other two adults on the right, but the baby must be theirs. 

They're all posing in front of a typical West Side Chicago back porch. It seems to be a special occasion based on the clothing. Perhaps it's the Christening of the baby, center. But what's with posing the baby on a stuffed dead dog! 

I'd love to crop the photo to see just my Dad and Uncle Will, but scroll down to the bottom to see what I'd get! The dog's very dead head comes with the close-up. What would you do? 

Josef and Lisi Gartz, Left; Fred and Will Gartz seated. About 1918

Friedrich Samuel (called "Sam" by his family), left  and Wilhelm
("Helmie" or "Will"), right. Dog's name unknown!

Family Photo Ties

Maria Ebner/Sonnleitner, seated,
 my grandmother's sister and her family.
 Andreas far left, Maria Roth's father.

Travel Tuesday

In our quest to find our family’s roots in Transylvania, my two brothers and I scored a number of heartening successes, often filled with surprise: discovering copies of prized family photos in the Neppendorf church museum, 5000 miles from home (See "Spilling Secrets"), visiting my grandfather’s home in Neppendorf, and retrieving my great-grandfather’s house number at the archives for the Siebenbürgen Germans in Sibiu. (See "Searching for Home")

But we still hadn’t found his actual home in Grosspold, where he had raised his family, including my paternal grandmother, Lisi. After making several inquiries as to the whereabouts of the Ebner Hof with no success, the pastor of my grandmother’s former church, told us he’d ask around further and we should call him the next day, Wednesday.

Early Wednesday afternoon, we called Pastor Meitert, and he had good news. He’d found the house--and something more! We all piled into the van and drove to Grosspold.

When we arrived at the church, Pastor Meitert brought us to the home of a relative we never even knew we had, Frau Elisabeth Kirschlager. After a bit of struggle with the language we realized that her grandmother and my grandmother had been step-sisters (see "Blended Family Breakthrough")! I recognized the photo she showed me, but had never know who it was. Now we did--it was her grandmother Agnetha's wedding.

It was getting late on a September afternoon, and the daylight was beginning to dim, so Pastor Meitert hurried us along on a five minute walk to the Ebner Hof. There, a group of several people were awaiting us. Two men, who were the new owners of my great-grandfather’s former Hof welcomed us warmly.

Maria Roth, our second cousin, sharing our
1961 family photo, below: 

But Pastor Meitert had done wonders in bringing us, once again, together with a relative, this time tied directly to my grandmother--Maria Roth. We were puzzled about the connection at first, but Maria came bearing a plastic bag full of photos, one of which made our relationship clear. It was a family photo of my grandmother’s sister’s family.

Lisi’s older sister was also named Maria (Ebner). She married and became Sonnleitner and had six children (see photo above-the oldest had already left for America), one of whom, far left in the photo, was Andreas. Maria Roth, who stood before us, is one of Andreas’s children, and therefore, our second cousin. 

Like Mary Poppins digging into her carpet bag, Maria began extracting wonders--but hers were wonders from our past--photographs my grandmother had sent to Romania over the years. Out came my wedding photo, my grandparents’ family photos from the 1920s, a postcard my grandmother had written in 1926.

But one picture stood out - our most hideous family photo--one that we all hated and never wanted to see again. After traveling 5,000 miles we not only found our grandparent’s past, but even our own personal past was emerging in the form of that unfortunate family photo. My parents and we three kids look so stiffly formal. We all agreed that Paul looked like a mafioso with his pompadour hairstyle. I had the worst hair day ever, and Mom was in a bad mood, barely trying to buck up for the camera. The oldest people in the photo -- my grandparents -- look the best--relaxed and happy! 

Standing: Dad, Paul, Uncle Bill. Seated:
Grandpa (Josef) , me, Mom Billy Grandma (Lisi)

Despite our keeping that photo hidden away, we couldn’t have stopped Grandma from proudly sending her most recent “family photo” to her relatives back in Romania. When Maria pulled it out, we all erupted in laughter!

We entered the Ebner Hof, and realized that despite the terrible losses my grandmother had endured (her mother and several siblings had died when she was quite young), they'd had a pretty good life--a home and expansive Hof, with land to grow vegetables and raise animals to eat. My grandmother had acquired a good job with a prominent family i n the big city of Hermannstadt (Sibiu) nearby, and had a loving relationship with her father, siblings, step-mother and step-sisters.

Grosspold Ebner Hof
L-R: Paul, second cousin Maria Roth, Bill and Me kneeling

But the call of America was still strong, especially when one’s sweetheart is beckoning. In the next post, my grandfather, Josef, sends a special 1911 Easter greeting, to Lisi Ebner,  to remind her she’s still his best gal. Find out more about why he wants to "spray her" in this unusual Easter tradition. Check in on Good Friday.

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