During the early months of 1945, Hank Eider didn't know if he would live to see the end of World War II.

As an American Jew at Stalag IV B, a German prisoner of war camp, Eider feared that someone would betray him and he would be taken to a concentration camp.

But in the midst of war, Eider, now 87, saw how the kindness of strangers helped him come out of the camp alive.

In December 1944, Eider was captured by the Germans while serving as a medic for the 423rd Infantry Regiment of the 106th Infantry Division during the Battle of the Bulge, the Germans' offensive battle on the western front.

Eider, then 24, was held for several weeks at a German-captured hospital base in Belgium, treating German prisoners. Then he was marched to the German prisoner of war camp.

"I was scared," he said.

And he had reason to be.

Word had gotten out that Jews in Europe were facing brutal treatment from the Germans, so Eider knew being Jewish was a liability; he had thrown away his dog tags, which identified him as Jewish.

But during his entrance interview at Stalag IV B with a British prisoner of war, he answered truthfully when asked about his religion.

"I'm Jewish," he said.

But the British man knew what was at stake. "For your benefit," he replied, "you are now a Protestant." Eider and the other prisoners worked day after day with little time to rest. Their food, when they had any, was usually bread made of straw and imitation coffee.

But Eider knew he could have faced a much worse fate at the concentration camp. Day after day as his name was called during the roll call, he wondered if the German soldiers would figure out that he wasn't a Protestant.

They never did. And with the help of his colleagues, he managed to practice his Jewish traditions. During Passover, Eider and other Jewish prisoners secretly celebrated the holiday using scraps of food and old prayer books smuggled into the camp.

"It made me feel great," Eider said. "I was able to celebrate a holiday I thought I never could."

The next occasion to celebrate came just weeks later, when the Russian army liberated the camp at the end of April 1945.

He returned to the United States two months later. After a two-month leave in his hometown of New York City and a stint at Fort Crowder in Missouri, he served the remaining months of the war at the Walter Reed General Hospital in Washington, D.C. He received his honorable discharge in December 1945.

Eider kept busy after the war supporting his wife and two children. He worked until his retirement in 1985 from a New York City clothing store. He visited his daughter in Yakima in 1986 and ended up moving here months later.

Throughout the years, he said little of his war experience. The trauma of being in a prisoner of war camp and hearing of friends, neighbors and acquaintances killed during the war kept Eider from telling anyone -- even his family -- much about that time.

The little family members knew his experience came from Eider's memorabilia from the war -- his honorable discharge card in his wallet, a badge with his infantry's logo and his military picture.

But it was his lack of bitterness that provided the greatest testament to his experience. Eider was known for his gentleness toward his family and his teachings of kindness to his grandchildren.

"I wondered how someone could see the things he saw and not be hardened," said Jessica Bernfeld, Eider's 25-year-old granddaughter.

The reason became clear to Bernfeld and Eider's other family members when he slowly revealed his war experience and the kind people he encountered during it. Eider said he felt more comfortable sharing his story as he saw documentaries, books and movies commemorating the war.

In 2002, Eider showed his family where he served during the war. By then, Stalag IV B was a memorial for German soldiers.

For Bernfeld, it was difficult to reconcile the quiet pasture before her with the experience her grandfather had several decades ago. "It's hard to imagine what it was like," she said.

But the experience provided Eider with peace. He was grateful for the ability to walk in the pasture with the family he loved. He was thankful for the people during the war who enabled him to live long enough to share it with his children and grandchildren all those years later.

"I appreciate life," he said. "I am happy that I am still around."

* Mai Hoang can be reached at 577-7685 or mhoang@yakimaherald.com.