Isle Loeb's story: A Thanksgiving Tale of gratitude

By Cheryl Orson
Nov. 23, 2007

Editor's note: There are many horrific Holocaust stories. This isn't one of them. As requested, in memory of rescuer Johtje "Johanna" K. Vos, named a Righteous Gentile by Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Martyrs' and Heroes' Remembrance Authority of Israel for saving 32 Jews and four political dissidents during World War II, this is a tale of gratitude and, most importantly, Thanksgiving.

Ilse Loeb was a girl of 12 in 1938 growing up in Vienna, Austria when she was sent by her parents to live with a cousin in Netherlands where they felt she would safe from the Nazi uprising.

As the cousin was, at the time, an unmarried bachelor, Loeb wound up with a foster family who took her in. Then in 1940, when Loeb was 14, the Nazis occupied the Netherlands and put the same restrictions on Jews as had been done in Germany and Poland.

In 1942, while still with her foster parents, an official letter arrived for Loeb, by now 16, ordering her to go to a German labor camp. By coincidence, she later found out this same letter was received by Anne Frank's sister on that same day, forcing that family to into hiding.

"I didn't know what to do, and my foster parents, they didn't know what to do. And everybody said 'Don't go,'" said Loeb.

By this time, her cousin was engaged, and to a girl who happened to have connections to the Dutch underground resistance movement.

"These were very brave people who did this, it was very dangerous," said Loeb of those with the Dutch underground.

The fiancée met Loeb at the train station at which she had been ordered to board a train due to arrive in less then three hours. Instead, the girl supplied Loeb with fake identity paperwork.

"It was of girl born in Holland, not Jewish," said Loeb. "And I brainwashed myself into believing I was that girl for the next three years."

A year and half later, in 1944, when Loeb was now 18, a Dutch Nazi mayor came into power in the town she was being hidden in.

"He was determined to find all the Jews," said Loeb.

One night, the mayor's henchmen decided to raid Loeb's foster parent's house. Unbeknownst to them however, an anti-Nazi Dutch underground policeman, who was in touch with the cousin's fiancée, had arranged to give an advanced warning to Loeb's foster parents. Loeb hid in a secret cubby. This happened twice.

At this time it became obvious to the foster parents that it was too dangerous for Loeb to stay with them any longer.

"They thought that a third time I wouldn't be so lucky," said Loeb.

That's when the cousin's fiancée arranged for Loeb to live with Johtje "Johanna" K. Vos and her family at a farmhouse out in the country. There were already dozens of other hidden Jews and fleeing political dissidents living in the overcrowded, but very safe, household.

The Voses themselves also had their own children and one hidden Jewish child close in age to their one of their daughters who "blended in well." Loeb, though, would once again have to assume yet another identity.

"To the children, I was maid taking care of them," said Loeb stating she was "always busy, and never bored" caring for them.

Then came the winter of 1944-45, one of the worst record in Europe. There was little to no food or fuel. Over 14,000 Dutch people are estimated to have perished during this time due to exposure and starvation. But even in these dire circumstances, (partially due to the Voses having double food rations) Loeb, and those sheltered and hidden in the Vos household, survived.

"No one was ever caught," said Loeb. "They were very pleasant, wonderful people. Totally amazing."

It was not without peril and precautions though. There were hidden cubbies throughout house, as well as an underground tunnel leading out to open fields. There was also the anti-Nazi Dutch underground policeman who installed a phone in the house (a rare item in those days) and would ring it twice and hang up as a signal people to hide.

Loeb came to feel almost guilty about hiding here.

"Everyday I would think, 'Am I doing something that puts these people in danger?'" said Loeb.

After the war, upon it being revealed just how many lives the Voses saved, they were labeled as "heroes" and a "Righteous Gentiles," titles they would never have used in describing themselves.

"She would say, 'That's nonsense what they write. I could never have done it without G-d. If you see someone drowning, wouldn't you help? I never thought of myself as a hero,'" said Loeb of Vos.

On Oct. 10, Johanna "Johtje" K. Vos, 97, who was predeceased by her beloved Aarat, died. At this time of Thanksgiving, Loeb thought it only fitting that these remarkable rescuers be remembered for the incredible people they were.

"We need more people like her and her husband in this world," said Loeb.