The Zookeeper's Wife: A War Story

“The heartbeat of eastern European Jewish culture, the Quarter offered Jewish theater and film, newspapers and magazines, artists and publishing houses, political movements, sports and literary clubs. For centuries, Poland had granted asylum to Jews fleeing persecution in England, France, Germany, and Spain. Some 12th century Polish coins even bear Hebrew inscriptions […].”

The Jewish Quarter referred to in this quote is near the Warsaw Zoo, lying just to the outside of the Old Town section where the zoo is located. Jan was well acquainted with many of the residents of the quarter, since he grew up going to a nearby Jewish school. This passage also reveals why the Nazis felt such animosity toward Polish people, since they had allowed refuge to Jews who fled oppression in Germany for centuries.

“Diplomatic wrangling in early 1939 led to antagonism by March, when Hitler secretly ordered his generals to ‘deal with the Polish question.’ Relations between Poland and Germany gradually disintegrated and Poles awoke to omens of war, a horrifying thought but not a new one. Germany had occupied Poland so often since the Middle Ages, most recently in the 1915-18, that Slavs fighting Teutons had achieved the status of a patriotic tradition.”

Once Hitler had taken former Czechoslovakia, Poland became his next target. After World War I, when Czarist Russia and Imperial Germany collapsed in 1918, Poland became independent for the first time since the late 18th century. Jan fought in the war for independence and became familiar with fighting the Germans. Hitler believed that Polish people were “inferior” and should be reeducated as servants of the Nazis. After World War I, Poland did not rearm, as France and Britain had promised Poland protection against Germany.

“Mixed with Antonina’s worry about her son was moral outrage that the Germans ‘in this modern war, so different from wars we knew, allowed the killing of women, children, and civilians.’ […] She didn’t know that Germany was testing out a new form of combined arms warfare which would come to be called Blitzkrieg (lightning war), a charge-in-with-everything-you’ve-got—tanks, planes, cavalry, artillery, infantry—to surprise and terrify the enemy.”

Once the Żabińskis realized the invasion was actually happening, Jan rallied to arms with other Polish men while Antonina took their son and moved 25 miles outside of Warsaw to a place so bucolic the Germans had no reason to invade it. To her surprise, she was very nearly killed by German attackers, as were many unlucky Polish civilians. Ackerman’s description of the German invasion, Blitzkrieg, is strikingly similar to the Second Gulf War military strategy of “shock and awe,” which likewise resulted in substantial collateral damage and civilian casualties.

“Nazi bombers attacked Warsaw in nearly 1,150 sorties, devastating the zoo, which happened to lie near anti-aircraft guns. On that clear day, the sky broke open and whistling fire hurtled down, cages exploded, the moats rained upward, iron bars squealed as they wrenched apart. Wooden buildings collapsed sucked down by the heat. […] Some animals survived at the zoo and many escaped across the bridge, entering Old Town while the capital burned. People brave enough to stand by their windows, or lucky enough to be outside, watched a biblical hallucination unfolding as the zoo emptied into Warsaw streets.”

Though the Nazis were indiscriminate in bombing every part of Warsaw, they paid particular attention to the area near the zoo, which held an anti-aircraft installation. As a result, the zoo was heavily bombed. Later in the narrative, the author refers to the zoo, emptied of animals, as a new Noah’s ark for Jews escaping the Warsaw Ghetto. In this case, the image of the ark is reversed, as the place of refuge becomes a danger that the animals must flee for their safety.

“The new German colony was ruled by Hitler’s personal lawyer, Hans Frank, an early member of the Nazi party and a leading jurist […] During his first month in office, Governor-General Frank declared that ‘any Jews leaving the district to which they have been confined” would be killed, as would “people who deliberately offered a hiding place to such Jews’ […] One of Frank’s key tasks was to kill all people of influence, such as teachers, priests, land owners, politicians, lawyers, and artists.”

From the instant the Nazis occupied Poland, they began a crackdown on the Jewish population. Because Poland had the largest percentage of Jewish citizens in Europe, Nazi efforts to contain and then eradicate the Jews were particularly intense. From the outset, there was a summary death sentence placed upon any Jewish person found outside the Ghetto or any non-Jewish Polish person who attempted to help a Jewish person escape. As the occupation persisted, it became increasingly difficult to assist Jews living inside the Warsaw Ghetto, which became ever more tightly cordoned off with fewer and fewer ports of entry and exit.

“‘I’m giving you my pledge,’ he [Lutz Heck] said solemnly. ‘You can trust me. Although I don’t really have any influence over the German high command, I’ll try nonetheless to persuade them to be lenient with your zoo. Meanwhile, I’ll take your most important animals to Germany, but I swear I’ll take good care of them. My friends, please think of your animals as a loan and immediately after the war I’ll return them to you.’”

Heck, a personal friend of many in the German high command, had a particular interest in the Warsaw Zoo because of several of the wild horses he wanted to “back breed” to recreate the tarpan, a species of wild horse that had gone extinct in the early years of the 20th century. After promising to be lenient with the surviving animals of the zoo, Heck allowed soldiers to hold a drunken shooting party to kill the surviving animals he did not want to take to his zoo in Germany. At the conclusion of the war, Heck disappeared into rural Germany to evade persecution by the Russians for stealing animals from Ukrainian zoos during the war.

“Then, on October 12, 1940, the Nazis ordered all of Warsaw’s Jews from their homes and herded them into a district on the north side of town […]. Typically, German soldiers would surround a block and give people half an hour to vacate their apartments, leaving everything behind but a few personal effects. Adding the Jews relocated from the countryside, that edict confined 400,000 people to only 5 percent of the city, about 15 to 20 square blocks, an area about the size of Central Park […].”

This passage records the official foundation of the Warsaw Ghetto, which would endure for the next four years until the Nazis decided to completely raze it. Herding all of the Jews around Warsaw into the Ghetto allowed the Nazis to confiscate all of their possessions and slowly starve them to death.

“In the Polish Underground, where acrobatic feats of daring unfolded daily, Jan bore the code named ‘Francis,’ after Francis of Assisi, patron saint of animals, and was known for his audacity, sangfroid, and risk-taking. His choosing to hide weapons and Jews in plain sight, in the heart of a Nazi encampment, proved to be good psychology, but I think it was also a kind of one-upmanship he savored, a derisive private joke.”

The instant the Nazis occupied Warsaw, Jan became a member of the Polish resistance, the Home Army. He recognized that, because the zoo was so close to a Nazi military installation, the Germans would not suspect the bombed out zoo to be useful for the Polish resistance. He commanded a group of 6000 resistance soldiers and used the zoo as a place to store munitions. He soon began to spirit Jews to safety through the zoo’s multiple cages, passages, and empty rooms. He would tell Antonina only that she should expect some people he called “guests.”

“One Sunday morning during the summer of 1941, Antonina watched a limousine stop in front of the villa and a heavyset German civilian emerge. Before he could ring the doorbell, she ran to the piano in the living room and started pounding out the loud, skipping chords of Jacques Offenbach’s ‘Go, Go, Go to Crete!’ From LaBelle Hélèn, as the signal for Guests to slip into their hiding places and be silent.”

This passage is laden with irony. Jacques Offenbach, the composer of the piece Antonina plays to alert the hiding Jews, was himself a Jewish man who changed his surname to hide his Jewish identity and escape persecution. The music itself describes someone who is fleeing, as were all the Villa’s hidden Guests. The visitor, Ziegler, tells the Żabińskis that they share a mutual friend in the Ghetto, Dr. Szymon Tenenbaum, an entomologist who stored his huge collection of insects at the zoo for safekeeping. Antonina and Jan form a faux friendship with Ziegler that allows Jan to sneak into the Ghetto through Ziegler’s office door and spirit out Jews from the Ghetto. Eventually, they rescue Tenenbaum’s widow this way.

“Beneath the Ghetto existed a literal underground—shelters and passageways, some with toilets and electricity—where people had crafted intersecting routes between and under buildings. These led to other avenues of escape […]. Some people escaped by clinging to the underside of horse drawn garbage carts that regularly visited the Ghetto and whose drivers often smuggled in food or left behind an old horse. […] Each escapee required at least half a dozen documents and changed houses 7.5 times, on average, so it’s not surprising that between 1942 and 1943 the underground forged fifty thousand documents.”

During the Nazi occupation, there were multiple safe houses in Warsaw outside the Ghetto. The zoo was one of the melinas through which people moved, though very few stayed for the duration of the war. Most Guests were on their way to locations outside the city and outside of Poland when possible. Jan was an expert at brazenly sneaking people out of the Ghetto’s entrances and bringing them to the villa. Once at the zoo, Antonina was the expert in calming people down and helping all of her secret guests live together in harmony. She also made sure there were many Polish people coming and going daily from the zoo so that strangers were not an anomaly to anyone who was watching.

“Most people know that 30 to 40% of the world’s Jews were killed during World War II, but not that 80 to 90% of the Orthodox community perished, among them many who kept alive an ancient tradition of mysticism and meditation reaching back to the Old Testament world of the prophets.”

This passage follows Ackerman’s description of the efforts of the Hasidim to preserve Orthodox Jewish life behind the walls of the Warsaw Ghetto. In particular, the work of Rabbi Kalonymus Shapira kept alive the religious hopes of the great number of Orthodox Jews who, invested in a faith of dancing, love, and exultation, could not understand the evil that had befallen them. The author points out that Shapira’s work stands in sharp contrast to the hatred, cruelty, and murder propagated by the Nazis.

“By the spring of 1942, a stream of Guests began arriving at the zoo once more, hiding in cages, sheds, and closets, where they tried to forge daily routines while living in a state of contained panic. Versed in the layout of the house, surely they joked about the clunkiness of so-and-so’s footsteps, children running, hoof and paw skitterings, door slamming, phone ringing, and the occasional banshee screeching of quarreling pets.”

The winter of 1941 had been desperately cold, and the Żabiński family had no coal. Thus, they had to move all their Guests to other safe houses that could be heated. When guests began to return in 1942, Antonina made certain that the villa was perpetually busy to cloak the arrival and departure of many secret Guests. Throughout the war, just as she provided secure homes for the Guests, she continued to take in injured, orphaned, and homeless animals as well. These were given free run of the villa, with Ryś providing zookeeper services.

“Uncle is planning (God preserve us) to hold a wedding for his children at your place, too (God forbid) […]. [H]e’s rented a place for himself near you, really close to you, and you probably don’t know a thing about it, that’s why I’m writing to you and I’m sending a special messenger with this letter, so that you’ll be informed about it. […] Uncle is planning to hold this wedding as soon as possible […]. Go into hiding […]. Remember—we are holy sacrifices, ‘and if some is left till morning’ […].”

This cryptic letter was written to the captive Jews in Warsaw to warn them that the Treblinka concentration camp was nearly complete. It was intended as a place to exterminate the surviving Jewish population of the Warsaw Ghetto. The term “uncle” refers to Hitler and the reference to his “children” implies that the Jews are to become a symbolic feast for the Nazis. The reference to holy sacrifices describes the leftover lamb from a Passover meal, which was to be burned if not completely consumed. Symbolically, this means that the Jews who go to the camp will be executed.

“On July 22nd 1942, the liquidation of the Ghetto began on Stawki Street with 7000 people herded to the train station, loaded into chlorinated red cattle cars, and delivered to the gas chambers at Majdanek. […] Between July and September of 1942, the Nazis shipped 265,000 Jews from Warsaw to Treblinka, leaving only 55,000 behind in the Ghetto, where a Jewish fighting organization […] arose and prepared for combat.”

Ackerman writes that, when Jan and Antonina first heard about the concentration camps and the mass executions of Jews sent there, they couldn’t bring themselves to believe it. Once the extent of the Nazi atrocities became clear, the pace of resistance work picked up. Also, foreign nations and new, highly placed resistance groups, like “Zegota,” formed to rescue as many Jews as possible. Once the Jewish population of the Ghetto disappeared, Nazis began to move people in to form a new community, using the possessions of the Jews they displaced.

“Keeping the body alive at the expense of the spirit was not Antonina’s way. Jan believed in tactics and subterfuge, and Antonina and living as joyously as possible, giving the circumstances, while staying vigilant. So, on the one hand, Jan and Antonina each kept a cyanide pill with them at all times, but on the other, they encouraged humor, music, and conviviality. […] ‘I have to admit that the atmosphere in our house was pleasant,’ Antonina confessed in her diary, ‘sometimes even happy.’”

This passage captures the absurd irony and contradictions of life as experienced by the Żabiński family in the villa while they provided hospitality to their secret Guests. While Jan was a noted perfectionist, sometimes capable of cruel demands, Antonina endeavored to keep everyone’s spirits high and extended maternal care to Guest, worker, child, and animal alike. She encouraged music and friendship. Each day, she baked a loaf of bread for the community in the villa to share.

“In the spring of 1943, Heinrich Himmler wished to give Hitler an incomparable birthday present, one to elevate him above all others in Hitler’s favor. […] [H]e swore to liquidate the remaining Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto, on April 19, the first day of Passover, an important Jewish holy day, and also the eve of Hitler’s birthday. […] At 7:00 A.M., Major General Jürgen Stroop […] returned with 36 officers and 2,054 soldiers […] with tanks and machine guns. To his surprise he found barricades manned by Jews who returned first […]. What Himmler planned as a gift-wrapped massacre became a siege lasting nearly a month, until at last the Germans decided to torch everything—buildings, bunkers, sewers, and all the people in them.

In this passage, Ackerman captures much of the mindset of the Nazi invaders as well as the Jewish residents of the Ghetto who fought against overwhelming odds. Himmler displays astonishing disregard for the lives of the Jewish people within the Ghetto, while the Ghetto residents display extraordinary courage. Their resistance inspired many of the non-Jewish Poles outside of the Ghetto to take up arms and initiate the famous Warsaw Uprising.

“Although the women bore Semitic features, each one wore a cross or medallion around her neck, and Mrs. Walter taught them key Christian prayers and how to behave invisibly in the church and at ceremonial events. They learned ways to cook and serve pork, prepare traditional Polish dishes, and order the moonshine vodka called bimber. Typically, when the police stopped Jews on the street, they checked the men for circumcision and ordered the women to recite the Lord’s Prayer and Hail Mary.”

Rescuing Jews from the Ghetto was not merely a matter of getting them out of its walls but also of teaching them how to move about as they traveled to new sanctuaries. There were Christian residents of Warsaw who actively trained Jewish fugitives on how to behave like Christians. They worked on their accents, on their appearances, and their choices of clothing. Men underwent a procedure called “reskinning,” which made Jewish men appear not to have had a circumcision.

“When our Punia radiates a calm and friendly interest in her animals […] she works as a sort of lightning rod for their fear, absorbs it, neutralizes it. Through her comforting tone of voice, her gentle movements, the safe way her eyes meet them, she imparts a trust in her ability to protect them, heal them, nourish them, and so on. You see what I’m trying to say—Punia is able to emit waves of calm and understanding.”

This passage is from a conversation taking place around the supper table with many people discussing how Antonina, here referred to by her pet name “Punia,” had diffused a dangerous encounter with Nazi guards and the Gestapo. Jan explains that he is not surprised by Antonina’s ability, as she has an almost supernatural way of calming not only animals but also human beings. He states that she engenders trust in others, taking away their fear and calming conflict. Jan’s description of her abilities summarizes the experiences of almost everyone—Jewish refugee, Nazi soldier, child, or Polish official—who encounters her in the narrative.

“Somehow the director of Parks And Gardens got wind of the proposed rebirth of the zoo, which would have destroyed his unified parks project, and so to foil Jan he sent word to the Germans the Dr. Żabiński’s services were no longer needed and his job should be terminated. […] Since the villa belonged to the zoo, the Żabińskis could easily lose their home, many melinas, and Jan’s small salary. Then what would become of the Guests?”

This passage illustrates a difficulty that arose several times during the Nazi occupation. When the zoo closed, Jan lost his official position as the zookeeper. This meant that the villa and the surrounding area, which offered many hiding places not only for Guests but also for the Underground, would be compromised. Jan managed to retain different official jobs for the city and therefore keep his residence: hog farmer, herb farm manager, and fur farm manager. This also reveals another common occurrence: infighting among the mid-level Nazi officials who wanted to pursue their own pet projects. Political infighting, manipulation, and corruption were rampant.

“In June [1944], Antonina affirmed life’s relentless optimism by giving birth to a little girl named Teresa, who stole center stage despite the global tug of war. Ryś was fascinated by the newborn, and Antonina wrote that she fancied herself back in a fairy tale about a baby Princess […] for whom gifts arrived each day. […] Couples were trying not to give birth during the war, given life’s uncertainties, and this healthy baby posed a good omen in one of the most superstitious of cultures, especially about childbearing.”

In this passage, Ackerman offers two observations about the nature of life. First, she notes that life is persistent, always seeking to persevere regardless of what obstacles exist. Second, Ackerman admits that life is full of uncertainties, such as all that Antonina faced while trying to provide for her new baby and simultaneously manage a secret safe house during a World War. The passage operates on another level as well, showing that all the guests and those close to the family were persuaded that Teresa’s birth was a divine promise of a good future.

“We don’t know what Antonina did to ease the pinchers of uncertainty, but Jan once informed a journalist that she had been raised a strict Catholic, and since she’d had both children baptized and always wore medallion around her neck, she most likely prayed. During the war, when all hope had evaporated and only miracles remained, even unreligious people often turned to prayer.”

When the tide of the war turned against Germany, the anxiety of the Polish people around Warsaw was not diminished. They feared that the departing Nazis would destroy what they could not take with them and kill as many Polish people as possible. This fear was exacerbated by the fact that, while the Russian army encouraged the Polish people to rise up and expel the Nazis, they did nothing to help the Poles retake Warsaw. Ackerman makes an astute comment about the absence of hope, when every person turns to religion and the only thing to pray for is a miracle that cannot be counted on.

“When news of the uprising reached Hitler, he ordered Himmler to send his harshest troops, kill every Pole, and pulverize the whole city block by block, bomb, torch, and bulldoze it beyond repair as a warning to the rest of occupied Europe. For the job, Himmler chose the most savage units in the SS, composed of criminals, policemen, and former prisoners of war. On the uprising’s fifth day, which came to be known as ‘Black Saturday,’ Himmler’s battle-hardened SS and Wehrmacht soldiers stormed in, slaughtering 30,000 men, women, and children.”

In this passage, Ackerman reveals the emotional, non-strategic nature of the Nazis’ decisions. Though facing simultaneous advances by the Russians and other allied forces, Hitler sends troops to massacre civilians. The underlying motives of the Russian leaders are also revealed in their decision to remain on the far side of the Vistula River, letting the Germans and Poles fight it out, so that they could step in and claim Warsaw and Poland for themselves, a communist satellite for the next 40 years.

“Jan returned from the internment camp in the spring of 1946, and in 1947 he began cleaning and repairs, and erecting new buildings and enclosures for revived zoo, one holding only 300 animals, all native species donated by people in Warsaw. Some of the zoo’s lost animals were found, even badger, who had tunneled out of his cage during the bombardment and swam across the Vistula (Polish soldiers returned him in a large pickle barrel).”

Ackerman records that Antonina and Ryś returned to the hollowed-out zoo facility and held a ceremony promised to remember and honor it. One year later, Jan returned from his prisoner-of-war internment and within three years reopened the zoo on a much smaller scale. Fittingly, one of the photos in the book shows three or four-year-old Teresa holding Badger, a symbol of new life bonding with old life.