From The Office Of The Reich Criminal Police:

Regarding concerns for preventive measures for combating the Gypsy plague in Burgenland.

“By order of the Reichsfuher-SS and Chief of German Police, the work shy and notably antisocial gypsies or half breed gypsies in Burgenland are to be placed in police preventive custody at once. ”

“Wives and other female relatives of gypsies and half breeds are also to be placed in preventive custody drawing from previous experience it is feared that they will otherwise become criminals or prostitutes and thereby endanger the community”

– Actual arrest warrant issued by Nazi’s for the Roma and Sinti’s

“You have to know: Respect your neighbour! Respect other people and lend them a helping hand. No matter where they come from or their race, don´t encourage hatred in others. So that AUSCHWITZ will never wake up again!” – survivor Ceija Stojka in her documentary interview.

“I said to him: ‘Ossi, soon we will get home!’ He said: ‘I’m not going Ceija! Look at me! I´m not coming home anymore! But don’t forget me!“ That were his last words to me. ” – Gypsy Survivor Ceija Stojka describing her last conversation with her 8 year old brother before he died in Auschwitz.

Finished a great interview with survivor Robert Wagemann for the new documentary. In the nick of time too. Snow storm rolled in and we lost power right as we finished the shoot!

Two weeks until our final interview with survivor Robert Wagemann. Born with a physical disability, he was targeted for extermination under the T4 program and later his family was persecuted for being Jehovah’s Witnesses.

From Production

For the 3^rd time in less than a year, I am off to Europe to continue filming “Forget Us Not” a documentary about the lesser known groups targeted by the Nazis during WWII. In addition to hauling an entire suitcase full of Victoria Secret and Ugg boots for my sister in law Anna in Munich, I’m also hauling my cameraman Art and my still photographer Theresa.  The check in dude is looking dubiously at the amount of bags we have to check.  There are a lot of them and they are all heavy.  A fact I know well after having them all topple off the luggage cart one minute after I started pushing it towards the terminal.  Too bad there isn’t money in my budget for a Sherpa.

In short order, we are all tromping on the 747 Boeing plane.  “This is the exact type of plane that plunged into the ocean during the Air France crash” Art helpfully informs me.  Theresa is wistfully looking up towards to 2^nd story of the plane where we imagine the 1^st class has their own bar and a personal butler named Fritz.  The plane is huge and has 56 rows in the lower level.  Theresa and I are in the last two seats in row 56 right next to the bathroom,  which is great for small bladders but sucks for light sleepers.  In order to pass the 11 hours in the air, Theresa and I play the world’s longest game of Scrabble on my Ipad.  She gleefully holds the letter Q so she can spell Iraq the whole damn game waiting for a chance to double or triple word it and then discovers on her 2^nd to last turn there is no using proper names in Scrabble.  She’s duly upset but there is no crying in Scrabble either.

We land in Frankfurt with only 40 minutes to get from C terminal to A terminal and spend 39 of it just getting off the plane from row 56.  Thankfully the connecting flight is slightly delayed and we all hustle to try and make the flight.  While LAX couldn’t be bothered with any in depth security, the Germans screen you to death.  We have to go through both customs and another round of x-ray to get to our gate.  Art gets flagged at customs and Theresa then gets pulled from the security line.  I guess I just look too sweet and non threatening.  Theresa is being quizzed by a security guy as I approach and he rummages in her bag and comes up with a flask. When Theresa and I were in Poland, we kept a little flask of vodka handy for a much needed shot after long weeks in 13 concentration camps.  The security guy gives Theresa a look that suggests she is trying to sneak through a little liquid contraband and she assures him it is empty.  To prove her point, she uncaps it and tips it over forgetting she has some residual water inside.  You know what looks just like water?  Vodka.

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