Time is running out

OPINION:

As a survivor of the Holocaust, I am writing to speak out for those who were silenced by the Nazis and their French collaborators. On Nov. 6, 1942, I was on a train traveling from the holding camp of Drancy, located near Paris, to Auschwitz. That train was composed of 20 cattle cars, each holding 50 doomed people for a total of 1,000.

More than 70 of such convoys left Drancy for Auschwitz from March 1942 to September 1944. Pregnant women, mothers nursing their babies, whimpering children, the elderly — men and women alike, were shoved into these cattle cars with little room to breathe. Each of us was given a slab of stale bread, a small portion of cheese and a can of sardines, though no means to open it.

Our “bathroom” was one bucket for the entire car. In no time, it overflowed, leaving all of us standing, squatting, and sitting in human waste. Dehumanization had begun in earnest. Residents of the town of Drancy looked the other way as the train, filled with misery and despair, started its journey to Auschwitz. We were a part of the war they wanted to ignore.

Some on board understood our fate, while others clung to optimistic hope. As I considered escaping, an elderly woman emboldened me not to give up. She said “If you jump and succeed, you’ll be able to tell the story. Who else will do it?” She added: “Que Dieu vous garde!” (May God watch over you!)

Fortunately, I managed to leap from that train before it reached the German border, and spent the next four years running for my life, always one step ahead of those who wanted me dead. Of the 1,000 Jews that left Drancy that morning, many died en route and 773 were gassed on arrival at Auschwitz. Those who remained were forced into labor, and only five of them survived. In May 1945 the war ended. I had slipped through the Nazis’ fingers several times, both before and after my escape from the train. Most of my family was not so fortunate.

In 1947, I arrived in America to start a new life. Today, I am a United States citizen. I live according to American laws and honor our ideals. A fundamental American principal is that every person has the right to access the legal system, to have their day in court. But for every rule, unfortunately, there is an exception.

I am one of more than 600 individuals suing the French national railroad — Societe Nationale des Chemins de Fer francais (SNCF) — for its World War II role in deporting Jews and other “undesirables” from our homes and delivering us to Auschwitz and other Nazi death camps. SNCF deported more than 75,000 people to concentration camps aboard trains marked with a “Da” for “Trains of David.”

SNCF took its job seriously and did it well. The company ensured that it had capacity to meet demand, and it maintained its rail stock in the hope of preventing escapes like mine. It supported the Nazis willingly and profited from this. In the years since, unlike so many other Holocaust-era companies, SNCF has not taken any steps to make financial reparations to its victims.

I jumped from convoy No. 42 with a purpose. I must tell the story of those who perished, and seek justice on their behalf. I turned to the American courts, hoping to hold SNCF responsible for its illegal actions, only to find my path blocked.

The Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act (FSIA) of 1976 was enacted to limit immunity to a government’s public acts, not its private, commercial ones. However, the law also grants immunity to corporations whose shares are owned by a government. The French government owns shares of SNCF. Therefore, SNCF, one of the 500 largest companies in the world, selling more than $100 million worth of Eur-rail passes and other travel services each year in the United States, has immunity from our litigation.

Fortunately, members of Congress are seeking to close this unintended loophole. H.R. 3713, legislation to hold Holocaust accomplices accountable, would permit us to have our day in court. I hope more Members of Congress will support this important bill. On behalf of others forced aboard SNCF trains, we are simply asking for the opportunity to hold the company legally accountable for the crimes it committed and the profit it made from those crimes. In this country, is it too much to ask for our day in court? It has been more than 60 years since I jumped from that train, the start of a journey that would forever change my life. Time is running out. Hopefully Congress will act before it is too late.

Leo Bretholz, co-author with Michael Olesker of “Leap into Darkness: Seven Years on the Run in Wartime Europe,” is one of hundreds of survivors and their heirs suing SNCF.