972: Discovering My Brother Was Alive Sweden, postwar. Mala Tribich MBE, recuperating after concentration camps, thinks she is the only member of her family to survive: Mala Tribich MBE Read Full Text Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Home All Memories About Menu Close ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Mala Tribich MBE's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, September 2023 • Learn More → Mala Tribich MBE Close Family Murdered Hostel Recovery Reunited Swedish Recuperation Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts England See Locations Full Text Sweden, postwar. Mala Tribich MBE, recuperating after concentration camps, thinks she is the only member of her family to survive: Then one day I got a letter from my brother Ben. We were in this stately home with all its beauty, I opened it, I read it & was so excited. I ran out into the grounds of this place. There were people milling around. It was a nice summer day & I was holding up this letter saying—shouting, I've got a letter from my brother, I've got a letter from my brother. I was sort of running through the grounds saying that. I think that probably it was nice for all of them to know that somebody’s found their relative alive. Then Ben & I started corresponding. And everyone started leaving Sweden gradually. In 1947 it was decided I was going to my brother in England. Oh, it was a great celebration. They were all very pleased for me. Most people didn't have anywhere to go. I travelled by myself. Today, they would send someone with you &, you know, everything. But in those days, they put me on the boat & I travelled. I was seasick. Ben was waiting with a friend. I could recognise him. It – three years. Mind you, that three years is different because one develops and – yes, I have some lovely pictures of his early time here. I was very excited. We got on the train to go to Victoria Station. I was quite fascinated by the houses. The back of the houses on a railway line, they don't look so great. That was just after the war when they hadn’t done anything to them. There were chimneys & chimneys & chimneys on some older houses, that's what struck me. Ben was living in a hostel in Swiss Cottage. A man had donated two houses, turned them into a hostel. We had games, dances, music, meetings. They were proper. Someone from the Central British Fund came to meet me. She said: 'we haven’t found anything for you yet but there's one girl who’s had an operation. 'She is on convalescence in Blackpool, so you can have her room. By the time she comes back we’ll have found you a room'. They sent someone to go with me, to look after me, & they sent me out to get some clothes. I had clothes but they felt that they wanted to fit me out. You had to have coupons. They didn't always have the clothes that you wanted & there wasn't another delivery for six months & you saw something in the window & you liked it & then they'd say no, but that's only for the window, we haven’t got anything for sale. Difficult, very hard times then but they took me out to kit me out. It wasn't anything too extravagant but they—anything I needed. Then they sent me to learn English. I went to a place in Warren Street called English for Foreigners. I learnt that very quickly [laughs]. Not because I’m good at it but because I knew how quickly I needed it. So then from there, yes, then they wanted to know what I wanted to do, to earn a living. I wanted to do secretarial work, so they sent me to a secretarial college for just about a year in Swiss Cottage. After that I was working & I was self-supporting. My first job was for Cape Times, the newspaper. They had a London office & that's where I got a job, at £4 a week, & I lived on the £4 a week. And from there, you know, I went up and up. 972: Discovering My Brother Was Alive Mala Tribich MBE Adapted from Mala Tribich MBE's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, September 2023 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

941: Sharing The Sandwiches Henry Wuga MBE came to Britain on a Kindertransport, settled in Glasgow and became a chef: Henry Wuga MBE Read Full Text Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Home All Memories About Menu Close ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from Henry Wuga MBE's interview with Dr Anthony Grenville for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, October 2004 • Learn More → Henry Wuga MBE Food Kindertransport Refugee Life Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Scotland See Locations Full Text Henry Wuga MBE came to Britain on a Kindertransport, settled in Glasgow and became a chef: Ingrid & I got married on December 26 1944. In the middle of the war. We were in love & there was nothing to wait for, not really. We were 20. We had the wedding in the synagogue & the function in Ingrid’s parents’ flat. A very nice party. I got one of the chefs from the hotel to do the cooking while we were at the synagogue &, well, again, we tried to do it differently. The menu is still hanging up out in the hall. We delivered a special menu. I was determined. Food was always important, just the presentation. I made bombs, ice cream bombs, yes. I had shapes, you filled in the ice cream but then you have to freeze it. Now we had no deep freezers or anything like that in these days. On the day of the wedding, I went down to the local Italian shop, asked his permission to use his ice cream machine, filled our bath with ice & sea salt to make it into a saline solution, & froze the bombs in there. Crazy, but that gave us a lot of pleasure. A very nice wedding. Just a few months before the wedding I was sent by my employers, a big catering firm in Glasgow, to Abbotsford, the home of Sir Walter Scott, to cater the wedding for his great-great-granddaughter. I was very greatly honoured at age 20 to be sent to arrange this wedding. I had tremendous help from the local baker, who supplied me with staff, with sandwiches. The gamekeeper’s wife happened to be French, so she came & helped me in the kitchen for a family dinner. It was war time, but being on a private estate, consommé, lobster, pheasant, partridge, was not a problem. It was for me a wonderful experience. They were very kind & this baker eventually said to me, ‘When you are getting married in December we will do the wedding cake.’ He sent me a 3-tier wedding cake but you wouldn’t recognise it. It’s silver in colour because the outside was made of these cake boards in papier maché. You were allowed to bake cakes but you were not allowed to ice them. That was the war time restriction. But it was very generous of this man to send me a cake. Henry met his future wife Ingrid at a refugee club: It didn’t have a name. We just called it the centre, was a little house called ‘the house on the hill’ in Sophie Hall Street, where the dental hospital is now. It was financed by the trade union movement in Glasgow. We learned a lot about music, we had lectures, we had meetings on a Saturday afternoon. On Sundays we went for rambles. There were discussion groups & helping the war effort. We founded a group singing Czech & Austrian songs for Mrs. Churchill’s aid to Russia fund. We toured Scotland, performing in the Usher Hall, in St. Andrew’s Hall, in the music hall in Aberdeen to raise money for Mrs. Churchill’s aid to Russia fund. We were fairly left-wing in climate, 1st of May march, etc. Ingrid's father warned her, ‘Don’t get involved in left-wing affairs.’ But luckily she did. It was so egalitarian because we all had no money. You did what you could. On a Saturday we went for a ramble. You made yourself a sandwich or something, but, some people had more money than others. So you threw your sandwich in the middle in a cloth, & then took a dip & had to eat whatever came out. Nobody should suffer from not having enough money to put whatever they want in their sandwich. The club was great. We made great friends that lasted many, many, many years. 941: Sharing The Sandwiches Henry Wuga MBE Edited from Henry Wuga MBE's interview with Dr Anthony Grenville for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, October 2004 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

See Locations USA Memories 970: Mother's Death At Our Liberation Mirjam Finkelstein By January 1945 there were rumours. People got quite excited. There was a wooden table, we had to walk past the camp doctor... Read Full Memory Ellis Island New York Locations Previous Country Next Country

982: Not Dwelling On Things Gerta Regensburger came to Britain in 1939 via a Belgium Kindertransport: Gerta Regensburger Read Full Text Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Home All Memories About Menu Close ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Gerta Regensburger's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, July 2024 • Learn More → Gerta Regensburger Kindertransport Kindertransport To Belgium Not Remembering Recovery Staying With Strangers The AJR Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts England See Locations Full Text Gerta Regensburger came to Britain in 1939 via a Belgium Kindertransport: I have no feelings & not many memories. I’m not a very retrospective person. It always amazes me that so many people remember every—cross every 't' & dot every 'i'. Not me. Opposite our flat in Berlin was a children’s playground with a sandpit. I do remember clearly they had yellow benches where Jews were not allowed to sit. In 1933, when I was 5, we went to France for 6 months, to Nice. I remember my 6 months in Nice where I had my appendix out. I always remember that [laughs]. The family returned to Berlin. Gerta was 10 when she went alone to Belgium in February 1939: I seem to remember doing some crying. Belgium was not a happy period. The families I stayed with first were terrible. So I went back to Brussels to stay a little while with my aunt. Then I went somewhere else, & then – it’s all very vague. In August 1939 Gerta came to London to join her mother & brother. I can’t remember arriving. I can't remember if I spoke any English, I suppose I must have learnt it. The family settled in Harrow but were forced to move in 1940: Harrow became what was known as a protected area. No bloody foreigners. Northolt Airport was not very far. My mother was sent to tribunal. She made the best category. She went to live in London & had various jobs in hotels so that she had accommodation. Then she had this job as a housekeeper in Epsom to a very, very nice family with whom we remained friends until they both died. I didn’t see my mother much during the War really. I was under 16 so because of school I stayed on with my guardian Miss Hollingsworth & then others in Harrow. I was very grateful. I slept for a time in what they called these shelters. Indoor metal shelters, like a cage. No special fuss was made of me at school. There were no other Jewish girls there. I don’t dwell on the past. I don’t have the obsession. The past is the past. If it makes people happy, fine. But it’s not my scene. I live in the present. I don’t need to harp back to what was. Gerta became a teacher, a secretary, an editor & a proofreader. She worked at the Wiener Library for many years & for The AJR, proofreading its Journal: I have an eagle-eye. The strange thing is one’s own mistakes one misses. But other people’s mistakes I beam in on. Today Gerta's flat is still full of her family furniture from Germany: I’ve always enjoyed that very much, having that. And my teddy bear. But he was actually my mother’s teddy bear, he’s sitting up there on top of my bookshelf. He came with her from Germany. He survived. He was a little poorly so I had him patched up a little. When I’m lying in bed I look at him. He never had a name. I'm very fond of him. There’s also a little French doll—which is disintegrating entirely, he’s called Armand—which I was given when I had my appendix out. My message to the future is: just keep on going. I have no idea what helped me create a new life in the UK. Sanity [laughs]? Ordinariness. Can’t tell you. How does one know that about oneself? I’m a fairly organised person. And I don't like to dwell on things. 982: Not Dwelling On Things Gerta Regensburger Adapted from Gerta Regensburger's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, July 2024 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

936: Why It's Necessary To Talk & Write Selma van de Perre Credits & tags Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Selma van de Perre was part of the Dutch Resistance & incarcerated in Ravensbrück. Her parents & sister were murdered in Auschwitz & Sobibór. She is a Holocaust educator & best-selling memoirist. I didn’t speak at all the first 30 years! To anyone or anything or myself. It was in 1975 with the opening of the Ravensbrück Memorial in Amsterdam. They asked me again to come. I went. For the first time. They said, 'Why didn’t you come before?' But I was building up a new life in Britain. You know. But since then, I've been every year. My nephews said to me: 'You must write it down Selma because you’re the last one of the family, & it must be told.' I made a few notes but I never did anything about it. But it was at this painting class, where I said, 'I can’t come next week because I’m going to Holland'. The teacher said 'How nice, have a lovely holiday.' I said 'it’s really not a holiday. It’s you know, it’s that & that. I'll give a few talks.' She said, 'What about?' So, I said a few things. She asked for more. She said 'I never knew this! Concentration camps in Holland? Resistance workers? I didn’t know there were resistance workers in Holland.' She'd never heard of Ravensbrück. And people never thought that there were non-Jewish resistance workers, certainly not Jewish resistance workers. That's why I think it's necessary to talk & write. Because so very little is known about Jewish resistance workers. Because if they—when they were caught, they were killed! Nobody was alive after the war. Hardly anyone. Very few, like me. That’s why it’s not known. That’s why I thought it needs to be written. I'm glad I did. Now I'm used to talking about it. I’ve done that so often in Holland & Germany, workshops. During the war, Selma was a slave labourer for various German companies including Siemens. The archives of Siemens were closed for years. Until, one day I received an invitation. One of the directors of Siemens asked me to come over at a dinner. The Director of Ravensbrück arranged the dinner. That’s when Germans started asking me. First of all Siemens asked me to give a talk to the young employees. They took me to the factory. My experiences had a big impact on me, of course. I tell myself to enjoy every day & I try to do that. I’m very glad I’m alive still every day, & every morning I know that. Also I don’t attach so much thought about things that go wrong or break. It’s not a human life. Previous Memory Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from Selma van de Perre's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, August 2020 • Learn More → Selma van de Perre Close Family Murdered Concentration Camp Nerves of Steel Ravensbrück Resistance Slave Labourer Telling The Story Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Germany Text adapted & edited by Susanna Kleeman See Locations Facebook & Instagram Posts

Soviet Union Siberia Memories 930: Reunion After 22 Years In Siberia Dorothy Bohm My sister was one when I left. 22 years later I saw her again. We had no language in common. No memories in common, no childhood. Nothing... 975: Life In A Siberian Labour Camp Izak Wiesenfeld We were taken by lorries into the forest, to a huge barrack. The first speech: “You will never get out of here, here you will die..." Previous Location Next Location

Switzerland St Gallen Memories 970: Mother's Death At Our Liberation Mirjam Finkelstein By January 1945 there were rumours. People got quite excited. There was a wooden table, we had to walk past the camp doctor... Previous Location Next Location

Mirjam Finkelstein Read full biography at The AJR / Refugee Voices Testimony Archive Memories 970: Mother's Death At Our Liberation Mirjam Finkelstein By January 1945 there were rumours. People got quite excited. There was a wooden table, we had to walk past the camp doctor... Read Full Memory Previous Person Next Person

Hannah Wurzburger, age 5, was on the last Kindertransport from Berlin. She left on September 1, 1939, and arrived in Britain on September 2: It's a bottomless pit. So absolutely appalling. Children are so vulnerable. Especially when they're separated from their family. I don't know how they can do this. The whole thing is just a nightmare. Terrible. It took a long time to... accept the situation that I had gone through. Hannah's parents & most of her family were murdered in the Holocaust. I left Berlin when I was 5, so I don't have much recollection there. I do remember coming downstairs & saying, “Hello!” to my mother. And she said, “Oh you don’t have to say hello.” My father teaching me a few things in English: “Let me broom the kitchen”, for instance. I was on the last Kindertransport. It was September, a couple of days before they declared war here. I don't remember the journey. I seem to have a picture—whether it's made up or not—of being with lots of children. This train—I think I had actually a teddy bear. My mother I remember, I think, at the station. I don’t know how they got me there. It may be an imaginary thing. I don't know. What you think you remember is probably more important than what actually happened. I don't remember anything of the journey or arriving here. I had an aunt over here. A little while after I left Berlin there was a letter from my mother. A card perhaps with a photo. I can't remember exactly. But that was it. That was all. My aunt went regularly to the—was it the Home Office where you went, to inquire about refugees? Who had escaped & managed to come over? They had lists of names. She went there regularly. She was not worldly, she had such a struggle, she did really quite a lot. But she—she didn’t come up with any family names. I didn't understand my situation. I wasn't very worldly. I mean I just took everything that was thrown at me & there was quite a lot! You accepted it & relied on your fellow sufferers, if you like, for friendship & talking & so on. There was no... It all seemed to be very... narrowed down & concentrated…" If I hadn’t been forced to leave. I think I would have probably learned to play some musical instrument from my parents, both of them. It's fascinating to think about. My life would have been totally, totally different. No one's life follows a smooth path, does it? We're all going all over the place. But. My life certainly would have probably been more stable. I do think Britain should take more child refugees. They seem to have the size & space. But there's this backlash of native people who say, “We get all these refugees, all these bloody foreigners.” They're afraid they're going to impact on their lives, take away their jobs & whatever. But I think there's still room in this country for many more. They've just got to be gradually assimilated at the beginning. You can't just throw them in. But you have to remember, there's no such thing as blue-blooded Englishman, never has been. They've always had foreigners. 976: Coming To England Alone Aged 5 Hannah Wurzburger Credits & tags Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Previous Memory Next Memory ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Previous Memory Next Memory 976: Coming To England Alone Aged 5 ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Hannah Wurzburger Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from Hannah Wurzburger's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, March 2018 • Learn More → Hannah Wurzburger Close Family Murdered Kindertransport Not Remembering Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts England See Locations Full Text Hannah Wurzburger, age 5, was on the last Kindertransport from Berlin. She left on September 1, 1939, and arrived in Britain on September 2: It's a bottomless pit. So absolutely appalling. Children are so vulnerable. Especially when they're separated from their family. I don't know how they can do this. The whole thing is just a nightmare. Terrible. It took a long time to... accept the situation that I had gone through. Hannah's parents & most of her family were murdered in the Holocaust. I left Berlin when I was 5, so I don't have much recollection there. I do remember coming downstairs & saying, “Hello!” to my mother. And she said, “Oh you don’t have to say hello.” My father teaching me a few things in English: “Let me broom the kitchen”, for instance. I was on the last Kindertransport. It was September, a couple of days before they declared war here. I don't remember the journey. I seem to have a picture—whether it's made up or not—of being with lots of children. This train—I think I had actually a teddy bear. My mother I remember, I think, at the station. I don’t know how they got me there. It may be an imaginary thing. I don't know. What you think you remember is probably more important than what actually happened. I don't remember anything of the journey or arriving here. I had an aunt over here. A little while after I left Berlin there was a letter from my mother. A card perhaps with a photo. I can't remember exactly. But that was it. That was all. My aunt went regularly to the—was it the Home Office where you went, to inquire about refugees? Who had escaped & managed to come over? They had lists of names. She went there regularly. She was not worldly, she had such a struggle, she did really quite a lot. But she—she didn’t come up with any family names. I didn't understand my situation. I wasn't very worldly. I mean I just took everything that was thrown at me & there was quite a lot! You accepted it & relied on your fellow sufferers, if you like, for friendship & talking & so on. There was no... It all seemed to be very... narrowed down & concentrated…" If I hadn’t been forced to leave. I think I would have probably learned to play some musical instrument from my parents, both of them. It's fascinating to think about. My life would have been totally, totally different. No one's life follows a smooth path, does it? We're all going all over the place. But. My life certainly would have probably been more stable. I do think Britain should take more child refugees. They seem to have the size & space. But there's this backlash of native people who say, “We get all these refugees, all these bloody foreigners.” They're afraid they're going to impact on their lives, take away their jobs & whatever. But I think there's still room in this country for many more. They've just got to be gradually assimilated at the beginning. You can't just throw them in. But you have to remember, there's no such thing as blue-blooded Englishman, never has been. They've always had foreigners. 976: Coming To England Alone Aged 5 Hannah Wurzburger Edited from Hannah Wurzburger's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, March 2018 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Finding Out Memories 930: Reunion After 22 Years In Siberia Dorothy Bohm My sister was one when I left. 22 years later I saw her again. We had no language in common. No memories in common, no childhood. Nothing... Read Full Memory 942: Father's New Woman John Hajdu MBE In each flat it was about 20 of us squeezed in. The area was guarded by the Arrow Cross Party: fascist & brutal. Hardly any food... Read Full Memory 958: Discovering I Was Jewish John Dobai My parents thought that by changing their religion, it might produce some sort of saving, at least for me. But they were wrong... Read Full Memory 964: The Next Thing Is We Were Gone Ruth Edwards I was on the train and saw my father crying. That made me cry. My mother said, perhaps she doesn't want to go. I said, yes, I do want to go... Read Full Memory 968: How To Talk Without Crying Ida Skubiejska Everybody was killed in Auschwitz: my parents, my sister, all my uncles, aunts & cousins. Absolutely everybody except my other sister & my cousin... Read Full Memory 969: No One In My Situation Lia Lesser In 1939, my father married again in Prague. His wife was called Ola & she was a seamstress. When she came out of Auschwitz she got in touch... Read Full Memory 973: The Puzzle & The Blanks Jacques Weisser BEM I should've delved more into it, asking questions. But most of the time after the war I wasn't with my father... Read Full Memory 979: Sitting Through That Bronia Snow My parents always discussed everything. But not a word was spoken about my going to England. So I found myself one fine day... Read Full Memory 980: Getting Streetwise Margot Harris When we were packing for England, the Gestapo came & went through all the cutlery drawers & took the silver cutlery & this & that... Read Full Memory 997: My Mother & Father Trude Silman MBE My mother is a question mark. I know she survived ‘til 1944 because we used to get the odd occasional 25-word Red Cross letter, but then it stopped... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

England Bognor Regis Memories 961: Having My Revenge Willy Field I was a refugee from Nazi oppression. I wanted to have my revenge & I had my revenge. That was a wonderful feeling... Previous Location Next Location

926: Dressing Up As A Gestapo Officer Betty Bloom Credits & tags Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close France, 1943: Betty Bloom (13) escapes to Switzerland. Her sister Ruth (17) stays behind with the Resistance: Ruth was told by her committee there's a Jewish child in Grenoble left by her parents, an infant under a year old, in an orphanage, & the Gestapo had found out. The Gestapo were coming to arrest this baby. Somehow, news got out to Ruth's committee. They wondered what can we do for this child? So, she dressed up; my sister dressed up as a German officer. With her good Berliner accent, in her 'Berlinerisch' [Berlin dialect]. With boots & hat, all in black. She demanded this child. The person in charge of the orphanage didn't want to give her away. She said, 'What's wrong? We like this baby, we love her. We'll look after her.' Ruth said: 'If you don't give us this child, we close the orphanage'. They gave her the child; she took the child to a safe home & the child survived the war. Got eventually to Israel & she was told that she was saved by a person. She found out who through the rabbi, who knew that Ruth was then in Israel. She was told where Ruth was. One day she turned up at Ruth's kibbutz. Can you imagine? Knocked on the door: "I am Celine. You are my 2nd mother. You gave me birth a 2nd time." They did everything. They had passes, they had costumes. When I first heard the story, cold crept up my… She saved this child. After that episode, the Gestapo were looking for Ruth. Because, you know, somebody walks as a Gestapo officer into an orphanage & goes out with a child. Her committee said to her: 'Ruth you can’t stay here anymore. A, you endanger your own life, B, you endanger our lives'. So she decided to cross into Spain. She knew Switzerland wasn't for her, she was over 16, they might send her back. She met up with a group, it took them 4 days across the Pyrenees to cross into Spain. The "chemin de la liberté". Walking at night, in ice: very very difficult. In Spain, they were well received. Eventually she got to Cadiz. She was given the option of either going to Palestine or England. But to come to England, she'd have had to wait till after the war ended, it wasn't simple. This was in '44. She was in terrible quandary. In the end she got a permit to go to Palestine on a legal ship. But on arrival, she was interned by the British because she couldn't prove that she was Ruth Schütz because she didn't cross the border with a passport. You know, what did the British expect? But by then my Aunt Betty was living in Haifa because she'd emigrated in 1936. She heard that Ruth was there & she went to the authorities, in Atlit, & she said: 'she's my niece' & she proved it by—she showed photos. I don't know what, anyway, they let her go. Previous Memory Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Betty Bloom's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2020 • Learn More → Betty Bloom False Identity Nerves of Steel Resistance Reunited Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts France Text adapted & edited by Susanna Kleeman See Locations Facebook & Instagram Posts