October 25, 1979
Page 29584
SENATOR MUSKIE AND THE VICTIMS OF RAVENSBRUECK
Mr. KENNEDY. Mr. President, it is all too often that men suffer at the hands of natural disasters. But it is even more tragic when men suffer at the hands of other men. It was in this century that the most brutal and destructive tragedy was experienced by mankind: The Second World War and the Holocaust. Some of its most unfortunate victims were the Polish women, later known as the "Ravensbrueck Ladies," who were subjected to gruesome medical experiments at the Ravensbrueck Concentration Camp.
It is gratifying, then, to learn of the important role of Senator EDMUND MUSKIE in securing compassionate treatment and compensation for the Ravensbrueck Ladies, which they so very much needed and deserved. In the October 27 issue of the Saturday Review, Norman Cousins reminds us of these humanitarian efforts, in which he joined Senator MUSKIE and my brother Jack, to restore the bodies and the souls of the Ravensbrueck victims. In Cousins' words:
The Ladies remained in the United States for a full year. Nothing was more gratifying than to see them change physically and spiritually. From a group that had been discarded by history, these women became deeply involved in a loving experience, and rejoined the human race.
Mr. President, I submit this moving article to be printed in the RECORD. It is indeed a tribute to the compassion of Senator MUSKIE and others that the rejuvenation of these victims has been possible. May this story inspire others to persevere in the struggle to improve the human condition.
The article follows:
RAVENSBRUECK LADIES
Our purpose in coming to Warsaw was to visit with some of the loveliest ladies in the world.
When we first met them they were known as the Ravensbrueck Lapins, a morosely impersonal but historically precise way of describing experimental human guinea pigs at the notorious Ravensbrueck Concentration Camp during World War II. The survivors were hardly more than girls when they were imprisoned. They were Catholic, a fact of significance only because it destroys the notion that Nazi abominations were visited only on Jews.
The German doctors were testing new sulfanilamide drugs. The bones of the young women were cracked open. Gangrenous materials — oily rags, broken glass, decaying substances — were stuffed into the open wounds. Then the doctors tested the efficacy of the drugs against the raging infections. After the Ravensbrueck Concentration Camp was liberated by the advancing American army, the survivors were returned to their homes in Poland, most of them badly crippled or disabled. Since Poland was not recognized by West Germany, the women were excluded from the compensation program available to other victims of Nazi brutality. No one paid any significant attention to them for a decade, until an American, Caroline Ferriday, learned of their existence and became determined to help them.
Miss Ferriday came to the offices of the Saturday Review. We had just completed the Hiroshima Maidens project, under which two dozen young women, disfigured and crippled by the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, had been brought to the United States for plastic and reconstructive surgery. Miss Ferriday felt that the team we had fashioned for that purpose might be reassembled for the benefit of the Ravensbrueck Lapins.
We said we would be willing to try. Because the number of Lapins to be cared for was much larger than the number of Maidens, we recognized it would be necessary to go beyond New York in mounting a project for the Polish women. All those who had participated in the Hiroshima undertaking, including Dr. William M. Hitzig, Dr. Arthur Barsky, Dr. Bernard Simon, and Dr. Sidney Kahn, volunteered in the new effort. In the Maidens project, the girls, when not in the hospital, had lived with members of the Religious Society of Friends and with SR readers who had volunteered. Virtually all those "host" families, as well as other Friends and SR readers across the country, became part of the new project.
The term "Ravensbrueck Lapins" was dropped, and the term "Ravensbrueck Ladies" was substituted. The women were flown to the United States as the guests of Pan American World Airways. After their arrival in the United States, they were divided into small groups. Some stayed in the metropolitan New York area; others went off to Ohio, Michigan, Florida, and California. In each place, a comprehensive program had been arranged that, in addition to physiological and surgical treatment, included psychological rehabilitation and occupational therapy. The core of the program, of course, was the home experience — being part of an American family.
The Ladies remained in the United States for a full year. Nothing was more gratifying than to see them change physically and spiritually. From a group that had been discarded by history, these women became deeply involved in a loving experience, and rejoined the human race. Their injuries could not be undone, but they received the best medical care this country had to offer. It was deeply moving to see them, as they prepared to return to Poland, capable of laughter and joy.
As mentioned earlier, the West German government did not recognize Poland, and therefore the Ravensbrueck Ladies had not been included in the compensation program for concentration camp victims. But we were able, thanks to the support of the U.S. State Department and Senators like Edmund Muskie and John Kennedy, to carry the case directly to the Bonn government, with the result that West Germany reversed its position and included the women in its indemnification program.
After the Ladies flew back to Warsaw in 1959, they embarked on new lives. They had been able in most cases to overcome or moderate their infirmities; they had the prospect of modest financial resources; and, most important, they had rich memories of friends in America who would be close to them for the rest of their lives.
On the 20th anniversary of their return, we visited the Ladies here in Warsaw. A few have died and some of them are now ill. But most of them carry on productive and meaningful lives. They are a close-knit group and see each other regularly, helping to care for one another when the need arises. We met at one of their homes, some of them having come from distant points, and they took turns in telling us about their families and their present situations. Most of them now have grandchildren whom they described with great pride. We all reminisced about incidents attending their stay in the United States, and I told them what I know about their American families. They asked me to convey their love to all their American friends, which I do herewith.
Perhaps the most important thing I have learned as the result of this and similar projects is that regeneration, especially spiritual regeneration, is possible even under the most remote and wretched circumstances. We live in a hard-boiled and dry-eyed age, where it is not fashionable to talk of such matters. But it is difficult for me to resist the sentimental statement that nothing gives me greater pride in the Saturday Review and its readers than its involvement over the years in such projects as the Hiroshima Maidens and the Ravensbrueck Ladies..