My family with Aunty Betty (sitting second from left) in Vilna, 1928

Sunday 7 May 2017

Aunty Betty's German Passport

Aunty Betty's German passport
In the weblog article "Vilne, Vilna, Wilno, Vilnius" I wrote about the many administration changes that Vilna underwent in its history. A perfect illustration of this is my Aunty Betty's German passport issued to her in Vilna in 1916 during the First World War. In the document it states that Betty's religion was Jewish and that she was a seamstress. It also contains fingerprints from her right index finger. The photograph of her, sitting on a bench in the offices of the German administration in Vilna, is the earliest I have of her.

In his memoirs Hirsz Abramowicz wrote about the First World War period explaining that the Jewish and Polish residents of Vilna alike were afraid of the Russian soldiers. The Cossack soldiers would ransack their houses and beat them. "Everyone was so fed up with the persecution, libellous attacks, and high inflation that nearly all of Vilna wished to be rid of the Russians, having had enough of their barbaric behaviour. The city's residents expected that things could only get better under the Germans." The Russians withdrew from Vilna at the end of September 1915. The Germans were to an extent welcomed as liberators by the Jewish population. The enthusiasm did not last long however under the strict military government of the German administration in which possessions and crops were requisitioned and a simple word out of turn to an official could lead to a beating. [1]

The cover of Betty's German passport with the imperial eagle of the German Empire and 'Pas' (passport) in German and Yiddish
One of the most surprising things about this bilingual German document is that the second language is Yiddish. Abramowicz also refers to this passport issued by the Germans during the First World War. It is a so-called Ostpas which was issued to every citizen ten years of age and older in the eastern provinces of the German Empire. Betty was 14 when she received hers. The passports were printed in German and Yiddish for those of Jewish "nationality", in German and Lithuanian for ethnic Lithuanians and I would assume also in German and Polish for the ethnic Polish citizens. [1], [2]

Betty's German passport is not just a personal document. I find it a curiosity in itself; a frozen piece of lesser-known history, testifying to just a fragment of the turbulent history of Vilna and its residents.

[1] Hirsz Abramowicz, Profiles of a Lost World - Memoirs of East European Jewish Life before World War II, Wayne State University Press, Detroit, 1999
[2] Howard Margol, Lithuania Internal Passports Database 1919 - 1940, www.litvaksig.org, 2004, 2007, 2011, 2012