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Mr. Ben Hiller’s Story of Survival and Gratitude
At the hachnosas sefer torah dedicated by Mr. Hiller’s family and friends in honor of Mr. Hiller turning 100 and in memory of his entire family who were killed in the Holocaust
By Malky lowinger
An elderly gentleman, noble and serene, faces an audience and proceeds to tell the story of his survival calmly and meticulously. It’s a story that he’s told over and over again, but he never tires of telling it. Because Mr. Ben Hiller, who lived through the unimaginable, is determined to let the world know what happened to his family and his people over seventy years ago. And maybe now, more than ever, the world is ready to listen.
Mr. Hiller just celebrated his 100th birthday, ka”h, and while he’s slowed down somewhat, according to his son, R’ Shmuel Leib, he still goes to the gym on a regular basis. Mr. Hiller’s greatest joy is attending the simchas of his beloved offspring. He’s not speaking in front of worldwide audiences anymore, but his story has been documented and published, and his previous interviews can be viewed online.
The words “Hitler” and “Nazi” are being bandied about freely these days. It seems anytime someone wants to express anger or resentment, these words are carelessly used. So it might be wise to take a moment to think about what those terms actually mean and to recognize what absolute evil really is. We may think we know it, but we have no clue. World War II, the Polish people were rabidly anti-Semitic. But that didn’t compare to what was to happen in the coming years.
Unfortunately, Ben’s older brother had the distinct
“honor” of being one of the very first victims of the Holocaust. When the Germans invaded Grojec, they randomly chose seven Jews and jailed them. Ben’s brother was among them.
“My parents tried everything they could to free him,” Ben remembers, “pleading and offering bribes.”
To no avail. After two weeks, they were all murdered. It was just a harbinger of things to come, but for Ben’s family, it was the moment when everything began to unravel.
“I was only sixteen,” Mr. Hiller recalls, “when my life was overturned.”
There was no time to mourn his brother, says Mr. Hiller, because just days later, all the Jews of the town were rounded up and brought to the Warsaw Ghetto.
Life in the ghetto was extremely difficult – the freezing temperatures, heavy snowstorms, rampant disease, difficult work, and unrelenting pangs of hunger plaguing the inhabitants of the ghetto on a regular basis.
In measured words and perfectly articulated English, Mr. Hiller tells the story of how he managed to escape the ghetto out of desperation and travel by train back to his native Grojec in an attempt to collect the money owed to his father by some of his gentile customers. Young Ben thought that these valued customers who previously enjoyed a wonderful relationship with his father would help his family in their time of need. Needless to say, that didn’t go very well at all.
Ben did not return to the Warsaw Ghetto but wandered from one city to the next through the forests, sometimes in knee-deep snow. He eventually contracted pneumonia and was hospitalized for two weeks.
Ultimately, Ben was recaptured by the Nazis and forced to work in a chemical factory in a large slave labor camp. He describes the inhumane conditions and the constant terror.
“They gave me a pajama and wooden shoes, and that was my clothing,” he says. “I slept with no mattress, no cushions, no covers. That’s how we slept at night.”
The chemicals Ben worked with in the factory were poisonous and turned everything that he touched yellow.
“We worked every day like this with no hope,” he said. “Can you imagine my fear? I never knew if I would live another day.”
And yet, his faith remained intact. “
Hashem watched over me and gave me the strength to survive. And I am so grateful for His kindness.”
Ben was transferred from one camp to another, each one more horrific than the next.
As the war progressed, and the Allies began bombing relentlessly, that didn’t stop the Nazis from carrying out their diabolical plan. Ben and his fellow inmates were transferred to another concentration camp inside of Germany where they were forced to carry steel bars over their shoulders all day long despite their weakened condition due to starvation.
“One day we decided to complain,” Mr. Hiller remembers. “So they forced us to stand in a circle for twenty-four hours while they walked around us with German shepherds, cracking their whips to make sure no one escapes. There were hundreds of us, forced to stand for a seemingly endless period of time.
“We never complained again.”
Even after American planes bombed the concentration camp factory, the cruel and barbaric Germans forced the inmates to rebuild the factory and carry the heavy steel bars all over again. Reports in 1945 of Russian troop advancement in the East did nothing to dissuade the Nazis from pursuing their goal to destroy the Jewish people. According to Mr. Hiller, he and his fellow inmates were transferred once again, this time to the infamous Theresienstadt.
In May of 1945, Ben was finally liberated, but his troubles were far from over. A critical part of his story begins after the War. Liberation, even after all that he’d gone through, was a tremendous blessing. But there were still many hurdles to overcome.
With the end of World War II, Europe was in turmoil. Thousands of refugees wandered the countryside and traveled from city to city, hoping to discover that perhaps a relative or a loved one survived. Train stations were overflowing with masses of humanity; people were wandering with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Russian soldiers who often proved to be as barbaric as the Germans were everywhere. Reports of raging and rampant anti-Semitism flaring up across the continent were not uncommon, despite the fact that the war had ended. It was a time of tremendous confusion.
Alone in the world, Ben decided to return to his hometown, only to discover it in ruins.
“My family and most of the city’s Jews were gone,” he said. “Only seventeen Jews out of 6,000 survived. Our
factories had been taken over by Polish people. We had nothing left.”
After a brush with a Russian officer in a train station that almost landed him in Siberia, young Ben desperately jumped onto a train headed towards the American zone of Berlin. He settled in a DP camp with hundreds of other lost and homeless Jews, waiting to go to Palestine, to America, to Canada, or anywhere in the world that would have them.
Ben was lucky. He had an uncle living in America who sponsored him, which allowed him to enter the country,
but it took until 1948 for him to finally receive a passport and the proper documentation. When he finally arrived on American shores, Ben’s uncle met him in New York and brought him to his home in Paterson, NJ.
Young Ben thought that he could finally live in peace. He found a respectable job and was beginning to acclimate to the American culture. But his challenges weren’t over yet. Soon after arriving in America, he received a draft notice ordering him to serve in the U.S. Army.
“I was shocked,” Mr. Hiller recounts. “I was new to the country. I had survived the Nazis and the Poles. And now, this?”
Ben did join the army, but he was eventually deployed to England rather than to Korea, where fierce battles were raging.
“Hashem was watching over me,” he notes.
Finally, after years of terror and uncertainty, Ben settled down in New York, found meaningful and productive employment, got married to his lovely wife Anna in 1956, and raised two wonderful sons who are both rabbinical leaders in their respective communities. As extraordinary and incredible as Mr. Hiller’s survival has been, perhaps most remarkable is his steadfast and determined commitment to Yiddishkeit. Clearly, his family is continuing to bear the torch.
After enduring unspeakable horrors, Mr. Hiller insists on focusing on his blessings.
“All my grandchildren learn in yeshivas,” he says proudly, “in Lakewood, Staten Island, Philadelphia, and Yerushalayim. I’m very proud and ever so grateful to Hakadosh Baruch Hu for His incredible kindness throughout every day of my life.”
Happy 100th birthday, Mr. Hiller. You have much to be proud of.
