Homesick Memories 994: Grass Snakes At The Beacon Lilly Lampert All I know: I wanted to come to England to be with my sister Gertie. I didn't know I wasn't going to see my parents again... Read Full Memory 998: Red Oaks Boarding School Ruth Jackson I was led upstairs to an empty dormitory & told that the very end bed was mine & I should have a bath & come down to tea. I felt miserable... Read Full Memory 1000: Idzia Mala Tribich MBE Rumours started circulating that there's going to be a deportation. So people were in panic, trying to find ways of saving themselves... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

Helen Aronson, Łódź Ghetto, 1944: In 1944, the ghetto was closed, everybody sent to camps. But the Germans decided: there's still some money to be made, so they chose a few hundred people to stay behind to clean the ghetto. My brother, myself & my mother, we were among them. Our job was to clean up the ghetto & still make a lot of money for the Germans, because you went into these rooms, dinner was on the table, nobody was in these rooms any more, so we had to segregate: the furniture separate, the crockery separate, everything in piles in the street and lorries—it was winter. Lorries used to come & collect it all & take it all to Germany. We knew that when this job was finished, we’ll follow the others to the camps. I had a job to clean the offices of the German officials. One of them was Gauleiter Biebow, Hans Biebow, who was in charge of the ghetto. I had to do the cleaning when no one was there, so it was very early in the morning or very late at night. At this time they put us into a different camp. I had a bed with my mother, we had a table & a little—like a Primus machine. We could cook a little bit. But every so often this Biebow, who was a drunk & whatever, used to have fun coming to the camp & few people could die or whatever. It was nothing. It was situated very near the Jewish cemetery. The driver of this Biebow, he was a Polish German. We made sort of friends with him & by money, we knew when he's due to go to the camp, so we used to stay in, don't go out, Biebow is coming, & so on. This chap, for money he was giving details & telling us. The right hand of this Biebow was a Mr Krumpf that I worked for. He quite liked me but I must not be seen, so I had to work at night, light fires, toilets, everything, or very early in the morning. So this went for a while. One day I’m cleaning the office of this Biebow secretary. There is a key in the drawer with a note: 'My name is Helena Schmidt. I’m not like Biebow. I will leave some food for you in my desk & here is the key, so just look at my desk.' Right, I opened the desk, there is some food & things. One day we decided to meet. Again, not allowed to be seen, behind some buildings. She said, 'well, I’m actually in love with one of your friends, a Jewish boy in the camp'. This boy said, well, I’m invited to her home in Łódź to a party. He was blond, Aryan-looking, perfect German, so we dressed him up in this leather coat & boots and thing, & off he went. He comes back after the weekend. We said, well? Well, how was it? He said: there were dignitaries in her home, SS men, & he spent the whole weekend with her. Okay. Then one day there's an air raid, & we were told that it’s done by Russian women or something. We were just standing laughing: oh, how wonderful to be killed by a bomb [laughs]. One day—some of the boys managed to have some sort of a radio & we've realised that something is happening with the Russian Army. So one day, I’m opening her desk & what do I see? A revolver. Her note said: Helen, I feel that the war is coming to an end & you might need that. I was scared [laughs]. I was scared to take this damned thing in my hand [laughs]. Then my cousin approached me and said, look, my husband was working on a bunker & tonight be ready with your family & we're going to that bunker, which was actually situated opposite the German Criminal Police. It was winter, 13° cold, we were ill-prepared for anything like this. We gathered our eiderdown, bit of dry food, & off we went. It was a hole made into ground with a desk, & there were maybe ten of us. We went, we sat, we covered ourselves with eiderdown. I can’t hear anything, nothing. Every so often my brother opens the thing, quiet, you can’t hear anything, can’t see anything. Before I went, I said to my boyfriend: 'We don't know what's going to happen but I am going. I'll be – if you are alive, look for me in this area. Anyhow, we're sitting there. We couldn't last longer than a week or so there because we had no food, no nothing. One day, we heard a lot of thumping, big boots. My mother said: I think I can hear Russian. Russian? You must be crazy. My brother very, very cautiously opens this entrance. I’m opening this thing & I’m face to face with a Russian soldier. He says: the war is over & you are free. [Gets emotional] How can you describe that? 986: The End of Łódź Ghetto Helen Aronson BEM 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 986: The End of Łódź Ghetto ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Helen Aronson BEM Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Helen Aronson BEM's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, July 2024 • Learn More → Helen Aronson BEM Encounter With Nazi Officials Ghetto Incarceration Helped By Non-Jews Liberation Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Poland See Locations Full Text Helen Aronson, Łódź Ghetto, 1944: In 1944, the ghetto was closed, everybody sent to camps. But the Germans decided: there's still some money to be made, so they chose a few hundred people to stay behind to clean the ghetto. My brother, myself & my mother, we were among them. Our job was to clean up the ghetto & still make a lot of money for the Germans, because you went into these rooms, dinner was on the table, nobody was in these rooms any more, so we had to segregate: the furniture separate, the crockery separate, everything in piles in the street and lorries—it was winter. Lorries used to come & collect it all & take it all to Germany. We knew that when this job was finished, we’ll follow the others to the camps. I had a job to clean the offices of the German officials. One of them was Gauleiter Biebow, Hans Biebow, who was in charge of the ghetto. I had to do the cleaning when no one was there, so it was very early in the morning or very late at night. At this time they put us into a different camp. I had a bed with my mother, we had a table & a little—like a Primus machine. We could cook a little bit. But every so often this Biebow, who was a drunk & whatever, used to have fun coming to the camp & few people could die or whatever. It was nothing. It was situated very near the Jewish cemetery. The driver of this Biebow, he was a Polish German. We made sort of friends with him & by money, we knew when he's due to go to the camp, so we used to stay in, don't go out, Biebow is coming, & so on. This chap, for money he was giving details & telling us. The right hand of this Biebow was a Mr Krumpf that I worked for. He quite liked me but I must not be seen, so I had to work at night, light fires, toilets, everything, or very early in the morning. So this went for a while. One day I’m cleaning the office of this Biebow secretary. There is a key in the drawer with a note: 'My name is Helena Schmidt. I’m not like Biebow. I will leave some food for you in my desk & here is the key, so just look at my desk.' Right, I opened the desk, there is some food & things. One day we decided to meet. Again, not allowed to be seen, behind some buildings. She said, 'well, I’m actually in love with one of your friends, a Jewish boy in the camp'. This boy said, well, I’m invited to her home in Łódź to a party. He was blond, Aryan-looking, perfect German, so we dressed him up in this leather coat & boots and thing, & off he went. He comes back after the weekend. We said, well? Well, how was it? He said: there were dignitaries in her home, SS men, & he spent the whole weekend with her. Okay. Then one day there's an air raid, & we were told that it’s done by Russian women or something. We were just standing laughing: oh, how wonderful to be killed by a bomb [laughs]. One day—some of the boys managed to have some sort of a radio & we've realised that something is happening with the Russian Army. So one day, I’m opening her desk & what do I see? A revolver. Her note said: Helen, I feel that the war is coming to an end & you might need that. I was scared [laughs]. I was scared to take this damned thing in my hand [laughs]. Then my cousin approached me and said, look, my husband was working on a bunker & tonight be ready with your family & we're going to that bunker, which was actually situated opposite the German Criminal Police. It was winter, 13° cold, we were ill-prepared for anything like this. We gathered our eiderdown, bit of dry food, & off we went. It was a hole made into ground with a desk, & there were maybe ten of us. We went, we sat, we covered ourselves with eiderdown. I can’t hear anything, nothing. Every so often my brother opens the thing, quiet, you can’t hear anything, can’t see anything. Before I went, I said to my boyfriend: 'We don't know what's going to happen but I am going. I'll be – if you are alive, look for me in this area. Anyhow, we're sitting there. We couldn't last longer than a week or so there because we had no food, no nothing. One day, we heard a lot of thumping, big boots. My mother said: I think I can hear Russian. Russian? You must be crazy. My brother very, very cautiously opens this entrance. I’m opening this thing & I’m face to face with a Russian soldier. He says: the war is over & you are free. [Gets emotional] How can you describe that? 986: The End of Łódź Ghetto Helen Aronson BEM Adapted from Helen Aronson BEM'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

927: The Wonderful Thing Ruth Rogoff Credits & tags Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Ruth Rogoff, Zwickau, 1938: My father was a courier for getting people out of Germany & over the border into Czechoslovakia, illegally. One day he was betrayed & caught & put in prison. My mother managed to get him out but his number was up, he was under surveillance. So he decided to go. Obviously they couldn’t take anything with them, so we went on foot, at night, with whatever we could carry, over the border, the route he knew. Left the car behind, left everything & went into Czechoslovakia from Germany. Then the Nazis occupied Prague, in March 1939. As soon as they came, he went to Poland, because his parents had been deported there from Germany because they were ‘Ostjuden’. My father went back to see if he could help them. He couldn’t because he had no means. Nobody could help anybody, this is the point. He went back there & then disappeared to all intent & purposes. He couldn’t contact us & we didn’t know where he was. He had an interesting journey, you might say. He made his way to the Balkans & got on a ship that took on political refugees. Because of his work as a courier he was considered a political refugee & was accepted onto this boat in June 1939. The strange thing is, if you talk about quirks of fate, when it came to the Channel, the boat, the ship was so big, it couldn’t come into the Channel. So they divided the people on into three sections, alphabetically. My father was sent on a ferry to England, by chance. Another section was sent to France, which of course was at that time still free. The third lot remained on the boat & went to Canada. So, the luck of the draw. He came to England. He was desperate to be in contact with us. He didn’t know any English—he heard the kids selling newspapers shouting “England in danger, England in danger!” His heart sank, he got a paper & got somebody to translate what was England in danger from. It was a test match: cricket. Ruth's mother won a cookery competition organised by the British Embassy in Czechoslovakia. The prize was 3 visas to England. Ruth, her mother & brother arrived on September 3 1939. We had no idea where my father was, that he was in England too. He was in a hostel for Jewish men, they were divided. He used to go into Blooms in the East End & get a bowl of soup & with it they brought a huge pile of bread. For sixpence he had a bowl of soup & about six slices of bread. He did really very well out of it. He wasn’t allowed employment. He couldn’t speak English anyway. But the wonderful thing was when we arrived, we were put into a hostel & the first thing my mother did of course, was to go round the men’s hostels to see if anybody knew. She went with a photograph, asked if anybody had seen him, heard of him, knew what had happened to him. That’s what people did. She knocked on the door of this Highams Lane Hostel. And my father opened it. Quite remarkable, isn’t it? Just remarkable. That’s how they found each other. Previous Memory Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from Ruth Rogoff's interview with Dr Rosalyn Livshin for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, March 2005 • Learn More → Ruth Rogoff Arrested Betrayed Emigration to Czechoslovakia Hostel Polenaktion Quirk Of Fate Reunited Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts England Text adapted & edited by Susanna Kleeman See Locations Facebook & Instagram Posts

Germany Offenburg Memories 989: Buying Sauerkraut & Soap Eva Mendelsson When you're a child, when nasty things happen, you remember. It makes a tremendous impression, even if you don’t quite understand... Previous Location Next Location

Kindertransport To Belgium Memories 982: Not Dwelling On Things Gerta Regensburger I have no feelings & not many memories. I’m not a very retrospective person. It always amazes me that so many people remember... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

Eva Evans MBE Read full biography at The AJR / Refugee Voices Testimony Archive Memories 938: Some Kind Of Darkness Eva Evans MBE I wanted to be a writer. But I never felt that I could write in English the way I could have done in German. So that was the end of that... Read Full Memory Previous Person Next Person

Algerian Internment Memories 933: Interned In Algeria Erna Klein One Arabic sentence helped a lot. It meant: ‘Are you drunk or whatever is the matter with you?’ That helped me out of a few difficult situations... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

Song Memories 989: Buying Sauerkraut & Soap Eva Mendelsson When you're a child, when nasty things happen, you remember. It makes a tremendous impression, even if you don’t quite understand... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

Hella Pick CBE Read full biography at The AJR / Refugee Voices Testimony Archive Memories 948: Not Remembering My Emotions Hella Pick CBE I can still see myself arriving at Liverpool Street Station. But I can’t remember much about the journey. Just a blank. It’s shocking... Read Full Memory 967: Fitting In Hella Pick CBE The other pupils must have known I was a refugee. I became a Girl Guide & we were performing something & I was an African chief... Read Full Memory Previous Person Next Person

England Essex Memories 998: Red Oaks Boarding School Ruth Jackson I was led upstairs to an empty dormitory & told that the very end bed was mine & I should have a bath & come down to tea. I felt miserable... Previous Location Next Location

980: Getting Streetwise Margot Harris Credits & tags Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Margot Harris came to Britain from Kassel with her family in 1939 after her father's imprisonment in Buchenwald: When we were packing for England, the Gestapo came & went through all the cutlery drawers & took the silver cutlery & this & that. My parents had expected this. So, in Germany, on the kitchen wall you had a salt cellar, oval enamel in white & blue. There was salt in it & my father put my mother’s jewellery into the salt cellar. He told us—they always told us what was going on—so we wouldn't look there. They came in with the big hats, turned everything over, the sofas, & they didn't find it. So when we went across the border from Germany into Holland, again the Gestapo came in & they went through all—people were taken off because they didn't have papers but we had our papers. My mother & father [laughs] had put the jewellery into little cigarette cases. In those days little girls wore bodices. We were told to put one case in each of our bodice & we went & looked outside & they turned the carriage upside down. We learnt to smuggle at an early age. So you get streetwise. I had a lovely little girl-friend, Rita. She lived around the corner, we used to go to each other’s houses all the time. We had a warning that we mustn’t talk to any strange men. So one day a man approached us: 'do you want some sweeties?' We ran off quickly because our mums had told us what to do or not to do. Little lessons you learnt. Rita was Jewish. On my return to Kassel they had listed all the people who had lived in Kassel & their fate, if they hadn’t been lucky enough to live—leave. I found Rita & her parents had died in the concentration camp. That was very sad. Another sad story: my father had a bookkeeper who had a Down’s syndrome daughter. He always brought her with when he came to do the books & I used to play with her. I saw in the book, in Kassel, that the three of them had died in a concentration camp. That was sad. It was very sad. Previous Memory Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Margot Harris's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, July 2024 • Learn More → Margot Harris Encounter With Nazi Officials Finding Out Hiding Valuables Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Germany Text adapted & edited by Susanna Kleeman See Locations Facebook & Instagram Posts

Palestine Haifa Memories 926: Dressing Up As A Gestapo Officer Betty Bloom The Gestapo were coming to arrest a Jewish baby in an orphanage. So my sister dressed up as a German officer and demanded this child... Previous Location Next Location