Iffeldorf – Right Here
Exactly here, in what was once the open space between the buildings of the Deichstetterhaus in Iffeldorf, women were washing themselves 80 years ago. Jewish prisoners, shortly after their liberation. They slept on whatever was available, even if it meant thin blankets on a cold floor. On May 8, 2025, more than 100 guests gathered on Thursday evening in this same space at the invitation of the municipality of Iffeldorf and the local parish of St. Vitus to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the end of the war, and to immerse themselves in Hans Hoche’s book “Moses in Iffeldorf.”

Guests filled the community center to reflect on April 30, 1945, when a freight train carrying over 2,000 Jewish concentration camp prisoners stopped at the Staltach train station due to a power outage and confusion. U.S. Army troops freed them from captivity. Hoche vividly illustrated what this liberation meant for individuals. May 8, 1945, was, said Mayor Hans Lang (SPD), “a day that opened the window of hope,” but also one that demands we remember “immeasurable suffering, intimidation, discrimination, violence—and the end of a murderous regime.” According to Lang, this remembrance must be connected to a call: “Never again.”

Prayer for Peace
Joining in that call were Rabbi Yoshi Zweiback, Evangelical Pastor Martin Steinbach, and Catholic Cleric Konrad Bestle. They prayed for peace. After a ventilation break—the hall was packed—the chair of the parish council, Heiner Grupp, handed the microphone to Hans Hoche. Before that, Grupp praised Hoche’s achievement in writing “Moses in Iffeldorf”, calling it the product of “painstaking detective work” into a nearly blank area in the town’s history.

Eyewitnesses and Memories
Over about two hours, Hoche provided insight into his work, featuring many eyewitnesses who experienced the day of liberation. He gave voice to the prisoners crammed into the freight cars: “We sat and slept on the floor.” The men had been stuffed into coal cars secured with barbed wire. There was no room to stretch out or stand upright. Thin prison uniforms offered no protection from rain, snow, and cold. “They practically lay in water for eight days.”

He also highlighted the experiences of Iffeldorf residents, who took in the freed prisoners or temporarily had to leave their homes. “The U.S. Army moved in and ordered all residents on either side of Hofmark to vacate their homes within 30 minutes, as the freed prisoners would be housed there,” Hoche reported. Soldiers told the prisoners that the homes they’d occupy had been lived in by Nazis who had since fled. The freed prisoners were allowed to take anything they needed from the town over the next 48 hours.

Historical Footage and Personal Testimonies
Hoche played video clips of eyewitnesses recounting their memories decades later. He showed black-and-white photos of them as young people. He described the newly liberated prisoners: men and women, barely distinguishable, shaved heads, emaciated figures in prison uniforms.

He also read quotes and short stories from people he had interviewed, personally or by phone. Hoche emphasized his intent to give voice to both sides, sharing stories from about two dozen individuals during the reading. “I still have 40 more interviews,” he said.

He uncovered shocking documents and captured moving testimonies. Some stories revealed that liberation brought not just joy but also fear and uncertainty. Families and friends had been murdered. The survivors had no possessions, no ID papers, no identity. One liberated woman took shoes for herself, her father, and brother from a warehouse—unaware that they had already been killed. “The Pole Sam Akiermann, now elderly, told me his story by phone,” Hoche said. “When I asked if the horrific concentration camp experiences still haunted his dreams, he said he still wakes up several times a week drenched in sweat.”

Where They Found Shelter
Hoche also explained where survivors found shelter—some with Josefa Schmid, others with her grandparents or parents. Josefa was heavily pregnant, and her husband was at the front. Her due date: May 8. “To my surprise,” Hoche said, “that child is here in this room.” Also present were descendants of Mnashe Davidovits—sons, grandchildren, and cousin Rabbi Zweiback from the U.S. Davidovits gained 20 kilograms within perhaps ten days after liberation—going from 40 to 60 kg. Seventeen prisoners died on the train or shortly after. The identities of nine of them remain unknown. “It was as if they had never existed,” said Hoche.

After a few weeks, Iffeldorf’s residents returned to their homes. “Most of the houses had to be completely renovated. Many furnishings—beds, upholstered furniture, textiles—had to be discarded and replaced.” The village’s normal life resumed only after some time. Hoche concluded his lecture. Then silence. It took a while for applause to start. Mayor Hans Lang said, “I found it hard to clap—I was quite moved,” weighed down by very deep emotion.

Endless Questions
In closing, Hoche engaged with the audience, answering questions, including what motivated him. “Pure curiosity,” he said. One day, he heard about “Jewish graves” in Iffeldorf, but the details were vague and confusing. So he began researching—for years. Every answer, every discovery, only raised more questions. That’s why Hoche, the Iffeldorf native, hasn’t stopped. “I’m still working,” he concluded.

Translated by AI