Weidner Foundation Contact Languages

Leica Freedom Train

This is a story about a German camera company and an exceptionally courageous family during that dark period when the Nazi regime had come to power in Germany.

If you happen to own a Leica, you already know that it’s a high quality camera of proven value.  Professional photographers know that Leica makes its own glass and it produces sharp and distinctive negatives that are among the very best in the industry. What you may not know is that Earnest Leitz II, who ran the German firm during the Holocaust, owns a well deserved reputation as “The Photography Industry’s Schindler.”

The story began in 1933 when Adolf Hitler became chancellor of Germany. Almost immediately, high ranking Nazi thugs began the process of instilling the most virulent brand of anti- Semitism into all levels of German society. So it didn’t take long for Jews to get a good idea of what was coming.  To predict the horror to come was one thing.  Getting out of Germany was something else and many of the skilled employees working for the Leica company were Jewish.

        As it turned out, Earnest Leitz was no fan of Hitler. He was a proud German, and a staunch Protestant with a strong contempt for Nazis. He also treated his employees as though they were part of his extended family.

  At the outset of the Nazi rise to power, Leitz began what would become known as “The Leica Freedom Train”. It started slowly when Leitz cleverly re-assigned Jewish employees to Leica sales offices in France, Britain, Hong Kong and the United States.  Things got worse during the Kristalnacht of November 1938 when synagogues and Jewish shops were burned to the ground, and Jews were randomly forced out of their homes and publicly beaten in the streets.

The Nazi rampage convinced Leitz that he needed to act fast to save his Jewish employees and their entire families. The important thing was to get these people out of danger. America was clearly the safest place for them. So it didn’t take long before Jewish employees were disembarking at the port of New York every few weeks in small groups heading for the Manhattan office of Leitz, Inc.

Upon arrival, they were warmly greeted by company executives who could easily pick out the refugees by the new Leica camera hanging around their necks. Housing had been quietly prepared in advance. Then each employee was given a livable stipend from Leica until the company’s sympathetic New York executives could find other jobs for them in the photographic industry. 

  Between the short period period of the 1938 Kristallnacht and September 1939 when Germany closed its borders, all several hundreds of Jewish Leica employees had safely escaped. Meanwhile, the Nazi regime utilized the expertise of Leica to make range-finders and optical systems. It also needed the hard currency earnings from the international sales of the popular Leitz cameras.

Yet, the Gestapo kept an eye on Earnest Leitz, his family, and his employees. Alfred Turk, a key Leica executive, was arrested for providing aid to Jews but a large bribe got him released. Then Leitz’s own daughter, Elise-Kuhn Leitz was thrown into prison for helping Jewish women cross the border into Switzerland. Eventually, Elise was also released but it didn’t take long before she got into trouble again. This time she was caught trying to make life better for 700 Ukrainian women slave laborers by assigning them work in the Leica plant during the 1940s.

Earnest Leitz and his daughter Elise along with Alfred Turk and others like them survived the Nazi regime. They later refused any honors or publicity.  They said that they simply followed their consciences. Were it not for the accounts of the Jews they saved, we might never have known about their courage.

  Fortunately, uncommon valor eventually does reveal itself. For how else could we honor the memory of such magnificent people?

Frank Mazzaglia can be reached at .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)