Aranka Siegal by Linda Harris Sittig

I usually only profile women from the past, but with Aranka Siegal I am making an exception.

Aranka Siegal is a writer, a Holocaust survivor, and a woman of passion and perseverance. Her mission for the past seventy years has been to teach about the deadly consequences of prejudice.

The fifth of seven children, Aranka grew up in a small town that at times has belonged to Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and/or the Ukraine. She spent her childhood summers at her grandmother’s home deep in the Carpathian Mountains, where life was full of traditions. The memory of those traditions eventually helped Aranka to survive the horrors of the Holocaust.

In 1939 when Aranka was nine years old she first heard the name, Adolf Hitler. Suddenly life began to change. By the age of twelve she was no longer allowed to attend school in her village because she was a Jew. Next, her father was taken away by the Hungarian soldiers. The family never saw him again. Then when Aranka turned thirteen, the soldiers came back. This time they announced that Aranka’s mother and the four children still living at home were to pack up and leave the house, immediately. Aranka remembers her mother grabbing only a blanket and one or two necessities; leaving behind the small tin container of yeast dough that would have been the starter for their weekly bread.

The family and their Jewish neighbors were herded into packed cattle cars and transported continuously for two long days into Nazi occupied Poland. When the train finally stopped Aranka gazed up at the gates of the concentration camp called Auschwitz. It was at Auschwitz that her concept of home would be destroyed, her family would evaporate, and her compelling story of survival would begin.

As her family entered the camp terrified and confused, a thin emaciated prisoner sidled up to Aranka and whispered, “Tell them you are sixteen.”  “But I am thirteen,” she replied. The prisoner hissed, “Say you are sixteen!”  The soldiers approached and asked Aranka her age. She replied, “Sixteen, and my sister is seventeen.” Then as Aranka watched, her mother and the younger children were marched off toward one building as Aranka and her older sister were herded to a different location. They never saw their mother and siblings again, who perished that day in the crematorium.

For months Aranka and her sister, now each wearing only a threadbare shift and with heads shaved, worked in Auschwitz. Deprived of all human dignity and witness to unspeakable atrocities, they were provided with only the barest amount of food. Each lost significant weight as their health deteriorated. Late in 1944 the two girls were marched for days, along with other prisoners, from Auschwitz to another concentration camp, Bergen-Belsen.  Here they both contracted typhoid, and saw a young Anne Frank die of the disease. Despite all odds, Aranka and her sister managed to cling to life.  When the British Army liberated Bergen-Belsen on April 15, 1945, Aranka was too sick to walk out of the camp. She weighed only 58 pounds.

Seeing that the Allies marked some of the survivors with a red cross on the forehead and then transferred those prisoners to stretchers, Aranka’s sister used spit and perhaps blood to draw crosses on their brows as well. The girls were quickly transported to a hospital and after many weeks of medical care were sent on to Sweden for further recuperation. By the time that Aranka and her sister found passage to America, Hitler had ordered the killing of 6 million Jews. Aranka promised herself that she would find a way of honoring not only her own family, but all those who died.

As an adult, she enrolled in New York University, married, and started a family. Then she began to write. Her emotionally packed books, Upon the Head of the Goat, Grace in the Wilderness, and Memories of Babi, all applaud the remarkable resilience of the human spirit. As her books gained in popularity and were translated into multiple languages, Aranka was asked to tell her story to audiences. She agreed, hoping that her message might help create a world where a Holocaust can never reoccur.  It is her gift back to mankind, because she survived.

I recently watched Aranka, now 84 years old, standing by herself on stage and telling her story to a packed college auditorium. Diminutive and fashionably dressed, her eyes filled with tears as she recounted the events of her life. When she was finished speaking she simply said, “Thank you for listening. I hope that you young people will now understand the deadly power of prejudice and always fight against it.”  She received a standing ovation.

In the words of George Santayana, “Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” That is why I continue to write about strong women in history, so that each reader of this blog and my website  will gain an understanding of how even one person can make a difference.

If you know of a particular woman who deserves to be featured on this blog, please email me:  My two criteria are that the woman be deceased and that her exploits are not well known to modern readers.

Also, if you have not already signed up on the right hand sidebar to become a follower of this blog, please do that before leaving this page. Thank you!

~ Every woman deserves to have her story told.





About lhsittig

I am a freelance writer who specializes in historical fiction that showcases strong female protagonists. In non-fiction I focus on literacy tips for parents and teachers to help children become life long readers.
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8 Responses to Aranka Siegal by Linda Harris Sittig

  1. rich fox says:

    even though i wasn’t alive, a part of me still feels the horror of the halocaust. my dad fought to end it and “we will never forget.”

  2. Tilo Peter says:


    can I make a apostil to your blog?

    You wrote, that Hitler’s Army killed the Jews. You must see some difference: The ARMY (the soldiers) don’t killed civilians. The army fight at the front. For the KZ (concentration camps) are special forces from SS (Sturmstaffel, NOT army!!!), SD (Sicherheitsdienst) and GeStaPo (geheime Staatspolizei, secret Police). The SS was a special military Organization with analog structures like the army. Some Units fights also at the front. (the same function as the marines or the black barrets today). The guards in the concentration camps was very special. Bestial and barbarous. My grandfather tell me, that the people are handpicked at the SS-school. She had now friends and avoided from the others.

    My grandfathers were SS-soldiers. The brothers of my grandmothers were SS-Soldiers. As I asked here, why, they answered: we was young boys (18-21) and we want to the best! We want fight for Germany. I asked about the concentration camps. Nobody knows details. And nobody want knows details. Civilists and Soldiers.

    Opa Erich fight in Finnland as a “Gebirgsjäger” (mountain infantry). First line. He don’t talk some details. He said, war is bad.

    My other grandfather fight in Hungary at the cavalry. His father was Sergant in WWI. As I tell him, that I make not military service, the two tell: right!

    Anyway I am proud of my grandfathers! Anyway here members of SS. Account of the membership! But I am not proud for the malediction from some Germans in WWII. I ashamed me for this. But I know, this is a part of the history from Germany. But not of my history.

    And now, I cross the fingers for the soccer-game!

    Greetings to Jim,


    • lhsittig says:

      Tilo, thank you so much for catching my error! I made the change in the blog to reflect that it was Hitler who ordered the killings. Such a terrible time in history for multiple nations. I still remember meeting Opa Peter and listening to his stories of that sobering time. I am so glad you are reading my blog!

  3. Dani says:

    Linda, thank you for sharing Aranka’s story.
    Powerfully written and sincerely shared.


  4. Powerful story, mom. And unfortunately timely once again with the most recent news. I was heartened to read that Aranka’s sister also survived- thank you for sharing!

  5. Betsy Allen says:

    Another great story about a strong woman. In reading stories of Holocaust survivors, I am continually struck by how their fortunes and futures turned on such (seemingly) little details and chance occurrences — such as a stranger telling a young Aranka to lie about her age. God bless her and all who will not let the world forget what happened to them and their loved ones.

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