Stephen Rosskamm, b. 1922, Commando X - Juden in Themar

STRIKING BACK: A Jewish Commando’s War Against the Nazis
by Peter Masters ‧ RELEASE DATE: Nov. 1, 1997

“Masters, an Austrian-born Jew originally named Peter Arany, has an unusual war story to tell, one that has not been told before. Masters was one of 87 Jewish refugees from Hitler who volunteered for military service in Troop 3, No. 10 Commando, an elite unit of the British army. Troop 3 was unusual in that almost all of its members were Austrian and German Jews, men who spoke German fluently and who would be trained in the ways and means of the German army (to the extent that, Masters notes wryly, they probably knew more about German weaponry and organization than most German soldiers). For these men, some of them concentration camp survivors, this assignment represented a unique opportunity to fight back against the Nazis. Ironically, nearly all of them had previously been interned by the British as “”friendly enemy aliens”” when the war broke out. When they were recruited for “”special and hazardous duty,”” they were required to assume new identities, with elaborate cover stories to explain their oddly accented English. Thus, Arany became Masters, Geiser became Gordon, Abramowitz Arlen, and so on. Masters recounts their grueling training with wit and gusto, leaving readers with little doubt that these men were ready for combat. And with the Normandy invasion, they saw plenty of it. Masters and other members of Troop 3 fought in Normandy for three long months; he would return to action in the Netherlands and participate in the final invasion of Germany. His narration of his combat experiences is vivid yet low-key. He never sugarcoats the reality of the violence he witnessed, but the book is leavened by a goodly mix of humor and a warm feeling for his compatriots. An admirable war memoir from a man who was neither a professional soldier nor a professional writer but who has acquitted himself nicely in both roles. There is a foreword by noted historian Stephen E. Ambrose.”

Excerpt from: “Striking Back: A Jewish Commando’s War Against the Nazis”
By Peter Masters

“Stephan Rosskamm, in spite of his star status, was arrested with his father at this time. The Rosskamms were the only Jewish family in Stephan’s hometown of Schwarza near Meiningen in the German province of Thuringia. The local Nazi authorities were apologetic, for Rosskamm Senior was the respected owner of a department store and a close friend of the mayor. The full impact of what lay ahead was as yet totally unknown to both perpetrators and victims. “You know how it is, Herr Rosskamm, the higher-ups and the Gestapo have issued orders. We have to arrest all male Jews of the town, and that means both of you, but we shall release you and your son soon.

”The Rosskamms were held in the county seat prison in Suhl. It was winter, and the nights in jail were bitter’ cold, “Remind me to sell better blankets to the prison director, Stephan,” said father to son. “These are clearly not our quality merchandise.”

When it turned out that other men and youths from surrounding areas had been sent to the concentration camp in Buchenwald, the threat of what the future might hold began to sink in with a chill that could not be overcome even by Herr Rosskamm’s top quality blankets. Stephan, who was sixteen when he and his father were released, took a train to Berlin to check the possibilities of getting out of Germany—across any border. There he found panic and turmoil; suddenly a foreboding of the dire, deadly future had become apparent across the entire land. So many Jewish women everywhere had their husbands taken from them that they felt compelled, at long last, to try to flee abroad. If they could not, or would not, leave without their husbands, they wanted at least to get their children out. No longer was it a case of “together, or not at all.”

Young Rosskamm was shocked when he encountered these terrified women in the capital, many of them young with small children. The Jewish agencies that had been handling the previous comparatively slow trickle of emigrants were overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of would-be clients. Stephan told me the following story.”There was such disorder that I felt someone had to do something. No! I felt that if I didn’t do something, nobody would; a mass of frightened mothers clutching their children would stand in confused lines day and night, not daring to leave to eat or sleep or go to the bathroom for fear of losing their place in the queue to get out of the country. As often as not, even when they arrived at the head of the queue to plead their case, they were told, “Come back tomorrow…'”And Stephan added: “I became a man—I had to. I organized a number system for those queuing, and I instilled some kind of order. It worked.”When the process was running smoothly, Stephan added his name to the list of one of the transports that was being organized.

It went by train through Cologne across the Dutch frontier, then to the Hook of Holland, and by ship to England, where a boys camp called Dovercourt had been hastily set up in the cabins of a working-class holiday resort.”