(interviewer) Why don’t we
just start with you talking
about your earliest
impressions of—in Berlin—in
Nazi Germany, when your
father had to leave.
What was life like
for you, first of
all, before we get
to that moment?
Describe life as a ten-year-old.
(Diana Belliard) Life in
Germany, for me, was wonderful.
Children had a very free kind of
upbringing—lots of
playing in the park.
It was—it was very
arranged, and so on, but
it was an easy life
for a child, and my
life, particularly.
I was homeschooled for
a long time, and my
life just went from
lessons to then playing
in the park—and the
park was great.
It was the Tiergarten,
the biggest park in
Berlin, and they had
everything the kids could
watch—paved sidewalks—and
sandboxes, and
places to play
Marbles—Marbles were big
in Berlin in those
days—the old kind, where
you kept lots and lots
and lots in bags, and
kids collected.
Anyway, life in the
playground is where kids
really connected, and
that really changed
when Hitler came to power.
In fact, it started
changing about a year and
a half before Hitler
came to power, when
the big fights—political
fights were going
on in Berlin between
the parties, and the
ones that Hitler was
waging very, very
strongly in order
to get elected.
They started the Hitler Jugend,
and all this kind of stuff.
So, at the playgrounds,
as soon as Hitler was
elected, everything
really, really changed
drastically in an
extraordinary way.
In about two or three months,
everything was different.
Before that, we’d
have—we’d had some
discrimination issues—in
other words, children
were refusing to play
with each other because
of their—one of them
might be Jewish, or
one of them might be
a social democrat.
And children would be
crying in corners because
they weren’t being
played with, and they
were being ostracized.
It was—from a joyful kind
of—kind of playground,
it became a difficult
playground, not to say
a fraught-with-tension
kind of playground.
It was very sad.
It was very sad to
see that happening,
and—I was totally bewildered.
I would go home and ask
my mother, “What’s this?
What’s that?
What’s Jewish?
What’s a social democrat?
What’s going on?” and she would
try to explain it to me.
I don’t know how much
I understood, but it
was clear that something
really awful had happened.
And then, my father, at
that point, was working
so hard on these whole
issues of the rise
of Hitler, and what he
was perceiving to be
an immense danger for
not just Germany, but
the world—and that the
world should really
start listening and
doing something about
this man, because he
was no longer a joke,
which he’d been earlier,
in the early days
of his campaign.
This was really getting
very, very dangerous.
So, his phone was ringing
all the time from
people who were trying
to either give him
tidbits of information,
or ask him for help,
and it would even ring
in the night, when
people would call
and say, “The Nazis
have come and taken my husband.
Oh, God, please help.
What am I going to do?”
It was dreadful—dreadful
calls, and Berlin was
really experiencing
this in enormous ways.
As soon as Hitler came to
power, it was—just changed.
Everything changed.
(interviewer) Could you tell
us—I should have asked you
this first, but—tell
us your father’s name,
and your mother’s
name, and then—and
then, also, say what
they both were doing.
(Diana)
Okay, yes.
My father was Edgar
Mowrer—Edgar Ansel Mowrer,
who was a foreign
correspondent for the Chicago
Daily News, in—in
Berlin, and he’d been
there for—since 1924—the
early part of 1924.
So, he’d really been able to
watch the change in Berlin.
Berlin was quite different
when he first got
there, but—getting close
to the thirties—1930,
’31, ’32, we’re
heading up this whole
Hitler—the rise of Hitler
was already taking
place at that time.
My mother was a—also a writer,
but she wrote theatre criticism.
She was passionate about
the theatre and German
theatre in the twenties
was extraordinary.
Everybody in Europe
recognized the German
theatre was extraordinary
then, and because
there’s so many theatres
all subsidized by
the government, the
Germans could put on
thousands and thousands
of plays during the year.
Each theatre, in every city,
it was—it was amazing.
So, she was having a
field day and was not
being so desperately
affected by the political
events of the time.
I had an interesting home life,
whether it’s discussions.
I never got to say a word.
There was so much talk
going on all the time
about—either—mostly about
politics—always politics.
“What are we doing next?
What are they doing next?”
(interviewer) Did
you have a sense
of fear in the family about ’32?
(Diana) For the—fear for the
country, fear for the world.
I don’t think there was any
sense of personal fear,
even though my father
knew he was vulnerable
after Hitler came to
power, that he probably
would be targeted for
expulsion if that was,
because he had been
writing about Hitler ever
since Hitler was fighting
to come to power.
And so, for his—he did
get a Pulitzer Prize
for his writing just
before the war, and for
his book, Germany
Pushed the Clock Back,
which was predicting
what Hitler would do.
It was published before
Hitler came to power.
(interviewer) Did he feel
threats on his life at all?
(Diana)
I’m sorry, what?
(interviewer) Did he feel that
there were any
threats on his life?
(Diana) I really don’t know,
and I forgot to check
in my father’s autobiography.
I don’t think he did until
after Hitler came to power.
That was a big change
then, and I think he
felt that they really
possibly could do it,
but my father was kind
of, like Ralph, a little
bit fearless, and not
inclined to worry about
things like that.
He was just going to do
what he needed to do,
and that’s why you’ll
get to the issue—on
your question, on your tape.
(interviewer) What do you
recall about leaving Germany?
How did that all
come about for you?
(Diana)
For me, it was Germany.
I mean, we were just
leaving Germany, and
so, we were packing—and
I was just a child,
tagging around, trying
to pack up my dolls,
or something—although I
didn’t have any dolls.
I didn’t like dolls.
My mother’s job was to pack up.
My father had to leave
from one day to the next,
so he hadn’t done
anything about packing.
It was easy.
It was not hard.
We were going to Japan,
and so, everything was
packed up and shipped
to Japan—the furniture,
and the trunks—everything.
Anyway—no, it was not hard.
It was just life—a new life.
(interviewer) You’ve told me a
lot about that period where
your father was
getting more and more
evidence of threats
against his life.
I think that’s interesting.
(Diana) Well, I think he
realized that they really
were serious about
threatening him.
I’m not sure I saw real
evidence about whether he did.
He was probably being
followed—I don’t
remember whether—I’m
sorry, I don’t
really remember what you’re
referring to, honey.
(interviewer) What you were
aware of—he let you know about
feeling a threat.
(Diana)
About what?
(interviewer)
The threat that was against him.
Obviously, he had—he had moments
with the—the
ministers in France.
I mean, in Germany.
(Diana)
Yes.
(interviewer)
He was warned.
(Diana)
He was warned, absolutely.
There were two
stages—they got—Goebbels
called him in and said,
“We really can’t
go on doing this.
We cannot go on
writing like this.”
And the first thing he
wanted to do is resign
from being president of the
Foreign Press Association,
and my father said—when he
thought about it, he
said, “I will resign
on one condition.
That you release—immediately
release” this
German journalist, whose
name I do not remember.
He was a little bit of
an older journalist
with the family, who
had been dragged away
in the middle of the night.
And so, my father got them
to promise to release
him and his family, and
allow them to leave
Germany, and the
man did go to live
in Paris for the
rest of his life.
He survived, and—and so—but
my father went on writing.
He gave in to their
request that he—that he
not be president, but
he went on writing.
So, Goebbels called him
in again, and I think
it was about two months
later, and said, “Mr.
Mowrer, you’ve got to
stop this, otherwise,
we’re no longer responsible
for his life—we
can no longer be responsible
for your life.”
And so, that’s when things
got really serious,
and he realized he had
to make a decision
on what he was going to do.
And Knox, who was the
publisher of the paper,
happened to be involved
in that decision,
personally, saying he
really urged him—urging
him to leave, and assigning
him to a new post
in—in Japan.
(interviewer) Did Frank
Knox order him to leave?
(Diana)
I don’t remember.
Of course, he’d say, “You’ve
got to get out, Edgar.
Just get out.
Forget your work here.
Just get out.”
(interviewer) Being a young
girl, were you ever—were you
ever concerned for
your father’s safety
at any point, or did it
just not occur to you?
(Diana) I really don’t
remember exactly how I felt.
I felt, at times, very
apprehensive about
this whole terrible
upheaval on every—every
angle of my life.
And so—but I don’t think—I don’t
remember being terrified
to that degree.
I probably didn’t understand the
full impact of this at all.
That’s my guess—I don’t
really remember.
(interviewer) Did you have
any feeling that your mother
was apprehensive, or—
(Diana)
I’m sure she was petrified.
But my mother was an actress.
My mother was a very
good actress, so she
always had everything
under control by acting
out the right thing, so
I’m sure she protected
me—was always putting
on a good—a good front.
(interviewer) You’d mentioned
something earlier—you
said, in school, there
were kids that were
being ostracized from the
other—from the other kids.
Do you remember any
specific incidences where
maybe Jewish kids were
singled out, or beaten
up by the teachers, even?
(Diana) Well, I can remember
it happening several times.
As I was saying, in
the playground, where
I’d find a child I
used to play with, or
was going to play
with, and she’d
be off in the corner, crying.
I’d say, “What’s wrong?”
And she would say, “They
won’t play with me.”
And I’d say, “Why?”
And they’d say—they’d say, “I’m
Jewish.”
That happened several
times during that
period, and then, also,
the “Social democrat”
phrase, I remember
distinctly, coming up
several times they
wouldn’t play with her.
And then, when the
Hitler Jugend had really
taken over, I would
find myself talking to
different kids—more
boys for this kind of
talk—conversation,
because they would start
telling me about what
they were doing, and
so on, and they got
very lengthy in their
stories about how
they were—singled out
somebody, and they were
going to get them,
and they were pursuing
him—they had it all planned.
I was kind of mesmerized.
I didn’t know what the
heck he was talking
about, but I never
heard children—I never
heard children talking
like this, and it was all
indoctrination from the
Hitler Eugen system,
where the kids were
taught to be militaristic
about their relationships,
and they were taught
to pursue other
kids, and they were
taught to tell on their parents.
If they heard their
parents saying anything
that was not pro-Hitler,
they were supposed
to tell their teacher,
or their—whoever they
happened to be relating
to at the time.
It was—it was dreadful,
and it was appalling.
It was a total transformation
of—of normalcy—total.
(interviewer)
What happened when you left?
Where did you go—where did
you go after you left?
(Diana) When we left,
first to the States.
(interviewer)
Chicago?
(Diana) To Chicago, and we
were probably there about
a month when they were trying to
figure out what they
were going to do.
And then, my father was sent
to Paris instead of Tokyo, so—
(interviewer)
Did you go to Paris, too?
(Diana)
Did I go to Paris?
Oh, yes, I went to
Paris for six years.
(interviewer) And how did—did
you have impressions that
you—you said you were ten?
Is that right?
(Diana)
Yes.
(interviewer) So,
ten to sixteen,
did you have impressions
of—of the rise of
Hitler and what
was going on in
Germany from Paris?
(Diana) From a completely
different perspective, yes.
I mean, first of all,
when I first there,
we sort of forgot about
Hitler, in terms of my life.
It was—my life was just
concerned with trying to
learn French, and being
in the French school,
and I didn’t speak any
French, so I had my own
little set of problems
that I was worrying about.
And then, during those
years, I remember an awful
lot of concern about Blum,
and the communist—the
riots in Paris, and all
that kind of thing.
But then, back, of course,
as we got through
’36, ’37, and all
the—Hitler starting
to take over countries
one after the other,
it just seemed kind
of overwhelming.
It was like, “I told you so.”
We knew this was going
to happen, and yet, here
it is, happening—and
that awful Chamberlain,
who did nothing.
It was very bad.
I mean, all the
conversations at my dinner
table were focused on
this, constantly, and
we had journalists,
of course, at dinner,
very often, bringing
new stories, and—it
was—my family life
at home was pure
politics, in terms of
family conversations.
So, it was always filled
with latest events.
(interviewer) Do you remember
some of the journalists that
came to your house?
(Diana) Do I remember any
of them, in particular?
(interviewer) Do you remember
some of them in particular?
(Diana)
Oh, my goodness.
Well, the Daily News staff—I
mean, Binder was the editor.
(s/l Will—Will Shirer),
I’m not sure was
actually on the Daily
News staff—I don’t
think he was.
Gosh, I should have tried
to think of a list.
Hemmingway came once to
dinner, I remember that.
Of course, he wasn’t—that’s
all I can remember.
(interviewer)
When did you leave?
(Diana) We left—I left in
1939, in the summer, for
a family vacation.
My father was supposed to
leave, too, but he stayed.
He knew something was
brewing, and—September
1, the Germans marched
into Poland, so I was
left in the States.
(interviewer)
Your mother was with you?
(Diana) My mother was with
me, and we lived in Chicago,
in a small apartment.
I went to school,
but my mother went
back in Spring to
be with my father.
Then, my father went
through the whole—the fall
of Paris—refugees, and
that whole terrible
story of the fall of France.
(interviewer)
And when did he leave?
(Diana) He left two days before
the Germans arrived in Paris.
(interviewer)
How did he go back?
(Diana)
—and they were there the next
day to look for him—very scary.
(interviewer)
There, where?
(Diana)
At our apartment.
They were there, looking
for him, and he
had left just, as I
said, two days before.
(interviewer) They knew
exactly where he lived.
(Diana)
Yes.
That’s easy, it was
probably in the phonebook.
(Laughs)
(interviewer)
Yeah.
(Diana)
It was—how can I describe it?
Letters—letters don’t
cut it, but there were
a lot of letters,
back and forth, about
all this, describing everything.
Refugees, leaving
from—leaving Paris, and
they were clogging the
roads, and—my father
worked out a way to get
out of Paris using
only farm roads—completely
off the beaten track.
He’d figured out a way
to worm his way down
to the Spanish frontier,
and—and he got
there, and he
didn’t have a visa.
It had expired, his visa.
So, he sat there in a
long line, with—an
eraser, and a little
knife, and he scraped
away the date in his
passport very, very
carefully, and wrote
in a current date.
But of course, those
poor guards—frontier
guards that had been
standing there for hours,
they never caught him.
So, he got in.
These little funny
details that can mean
life and death—life or
death, are amazing.
(interviewer) And then, during
the war years, where were
you?
(Diana)
I was in the States.
(interviewer)
Where?
(Diana)
First, I had high school here in
Chicago, and then, I
went to Radcliffe.
Actually, 1940 is when
I went to Radcliffe.
And I was just thinking
about how much
in 19—right after—first—the
first year,
I was the only one
who seemed to care.
I mean, there really wasn’t much
concern among college kids.
They really were very
protected, I think.
They were not interested in
the European War at all.
It was pretty isolationist.
And—I remember starting
a little paper
called The Toxin, to
try to alert people.
(Laughs) It was pretty funny.
But then, after Pearl
Harbor, of course—and
then, in 1942, people
really started to do
more than just knitting
and collecting silver
paper, and all the stuff
that everybody was
trying to do.
So, we started taking
classes—yes, I took
a class in Auto-mechanics,
and a class in Navigation.
I was going to be a ferry
pilot if necessary.
I mean, not a pilot, but a
navigator with the pilot.
Isn’t that crazy?
I mean, we really thought
we could do this.
We went nights, and after—after
classes and things
like that—really goofy,
apple-picking—stupid
stuff, but kids tried—everybody
was trying to help.
It was the home front,
and everybody really
was—it’s totally different
from now, so different.
(interviewer) So, you’re in
Radcliffe through the whole war?
(Diana)
Yes.
We had the Wave cell
there in Fort—one of
their training camps,
so they were marching
up and down in our
quadrangles, and—and
Harvard itself was pretty
empty of students,
except for foreign
students—quite a few of
those, and 4-Fs, of
course, who weren’t
able to go to war.
So, things were very—it’s
hard to describe,
because I never went
to college in normal
years, so—(Laughs)
(interviewer) And after the
war—I mean, you told me you
ended up in Paris, working
for the Marshall Plan.
How did that all come about?
(Diana)
Yes, I did.
Well, that was
three years later.
Yes, I did, just for a year,
but it was fascinating work.
It was interesting
that we—our work was
focused on trying to
persuade the Marshall
Plans that this was not a deep
dark plot to somehow
rip them off.
They were sure America was
just trying to rip them off.
(interviewer)
The French?
(Diana)
Yes.
I never talked to anybody
who was doing the
Marshall Plan elsewhere
to see if it was the
same thing everywhere, but—it
certainly was, in France.
Little by little, they
saw that it was really
a pretty good plan, and
very much to their
advantage—fascinating plan.
It was really one
of the good things
America did
immediately, I think.
It was quite—quite interesting.
(interviewer) How did you
get involved with that?
(Diana) Well, I was—I was
hoping to go work in Europe,
and I knew one of the
journalists who was
involved, and—and so,
she hired me, and
she was going to be
there, and—it was—it
was—this was the public
relations part of
the Marshall Plan, where
we were trying to
sell—as they say,
sell the plans to the
French, so that they would
cooperate more with
the plan, and really be
more enthusiastic about it.
Anyway, it’s—
(interviewer) How are your
feelings toward Germany after
the war, and the discovery
of the Holocaust?
(Diana)
My feelings towards Germany?
Oh, dear.
No, I have never
forgiven the Germans.
I don’t think you can.
I mean, if you really
lived this close to it.
I didn’t have anybody
person—any personal
friend in the Holocaust,
but I know so many
people who did,
and—the Holocaust
is something unimaginable.
I think that no matter
how much you read about
it—no matter how much
you hear about it,
I don’t think you can
really—really fully grasp it.
(interviewer)
Did you go back to Germany?
(Diana)
I don’t think so.
(interviewer)
Not once?
(Diana)
Why bother?
(Laughs) I have been
back very briefly in
one of these little
tours of Europe kind of
trips, but nothing extensive.
No, I mean, I think that
there are wonderful Germans.
God knows we had plenty
of German friends,
but it’s—it’s a
tragedy when a whole
country’s mentality
can be persuaded to
accept what they became
persuaded to accept,
and go along with.
So, I think one can be
bitter about the country,
as opposed to just being bitter
about Hitler, personally.
It’s—it’s a personal decision—
(interviewer) Do you have any
sense, or any feelings about
how Germany, today, is
looking at their past
as they’re trying to
understand World War II?
Have you talked to any Germans
about that, or read anything?
(Diana) No, I really
don’t—I’m not able to talk
about that because I really
haven’t been talking to Germans.
All I read is what we
read in the newspapers.
I really don’t—I love
their environmental work.
Now, there, I’m
really enthusiastic.
I mean, they’re among the
leaders, environmentally,
in Europe, and I think
that that is wonderful.
They’re really thinking
ahead in such a
constructive way,
and—but I don’t know
much about anything—any
other part—part of them.
And I know the current
Germans are not the
same people—all the
usual stuff, and I’m
sure I’m—if I went
to live there, I’m
sure I’d find plenty
of congenial people
to connect to.
(interviewer) Could you see,
as a child—I mean, obviously,
you were very young.
You were ten years
old when you were
hearing these remarks in school.
(Diana) I’m sorry, I’m not
hearing you very well.
(interviewer) When you were in
school and you were a child,
you heard these
anti-Semitic—different
racial remarks.
Could you see—not as a
kid, but now, could you
see how that hatred could
turn into something
so dark so easily?
(Diana)
Could I see it then?
(interviewer) Could you see it
then, and could you see how
it turned into it now?
(Diana) Well, I think any
kind of—I think any kind
of really profound
prejudice can turn dark
easily because it’s
so—seems to be so
little barrier between
just an opinion, or
a passion, or a true
sort of visceral kind
of inner hatred that some
people seem to have.
And then, going overboard
and acting on it.
So, it’s one of these
progressive things, I
think, that’s there,
and should be guarded
against because it really
is so dangerous—because
the borderline is so
fluid, and so easily
manipulated as Hitler
did, and Goebbels did.
This manipulation the
repetitive lie is so powerful.
It’s extraordinary
how quickly—I mean,
they’ve done tests
to know about—even
here—college people have
done tests about how
quickly people can change
their personalities
and so on, under
certain circumstances.
So, it’s—the human
psyche is so fragile.
It’s frightening in
that respect, and it’s
why one has to guard
against these changes
that could be made by
politicians, or other people.
It’s really hard to
anticipate where the
danger’s going to come
from exactly, but
one really has to be
ready—to be ready about
what truths are told,
“Truth,” being one
of the reasons America’s
in such turmoil today
is that, we have two
truths circulating
among our two political
parties—the Democratic
truths, and the Republican
truths, and it’s
very hard for people
to talk to each other
because they don’t
believe the same—what
they call, “Facts,” and this is
sort of what
happened in Germany.
The facts were changed
for people, into the
most blatant, outright
monstrous lies that
people swallowed.
So, truth guardians—guardians
of truth are
the most powerful
people, and they really
have the biggest job,
and the most important
job—to keep—keep
people sane, at least.
(interviewer) Were you aware of
any changes in your father’s
attitude after the
war, toward Germany,
or toward the
post-war settlement?
(Diana) I think he felt as he
grew older, and he continued
to write about it in
the National Affairs,
exclusively—I think he
felt that even though
we said we had learned,
that the world still
hadn’t learned enough
from the lesson—that
we were never quite
protected adequately,
and he became—in later
life, he sort of
went overboard himself,
I think, and became
almost a hawk about
protecting ourselves,
and being—don’t you
think you used
to have conversations with him?
(interviewer)
Yes.
(Diana) Later, when he
was getting very old?
(interviewer)
You’re right.
(Diana) It’s—I don’t know
whether that answers
your question.
He really was very,
very focused on the
dangers of extreme
political movements.
I mean, he was really
worried about the Russians.
He was afraid that
communism would have more
of an effect than it
eventually did, but it
could have had a bad result.
And any kind of fascism is very
dangerous from his perspective.
(interviewer)
How old was he when he died?
(Diana)
Sorry.
(interviewer)
How old was he when he died?
When did he die?
(Diana) He died in ’75,
’76—somewhere in there.
He was eighty-five.
(interviewer)
Eighty-five.
(Diana)
Yeah, he was eighty-five.
(interviewer) Was he pessimistic
or hopeful about the future
at that point?
(Diana)
Sort of a mix.
He saw good things and
bad things, depending
on the—what was going
on at the time.
He wrote one book
called, A great
time—A Good Time to be Alive.
That was one of his
more hopeful books.
(interviewer) Do you have any
of his papers or letters?
(Diana)
Do I what?
(interviewer) Do you have any
of his papers or letters?
(Diana)
Very little.
We had a robbery in our
house, and they took a
whole cabinetful of all
his personal stuff.
Isn’t that awful?
I mean, they could have
taken—thrown everything
out, but these robbers
took the whole darn
thing and didn’t
throw anything away.
It was horrible.
It was an Italian
sculpture thing that, I
guess, they thought
was—had some worth.
So, I lost all that,
which was too bad.
I have his book.
He wrote twelve, so that’s
a lot of stuff in there.
(interviewer)
Okay, good.
(Diana) I think that’s
enough, thank you very much.
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