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Germany Düsseldorf Memories 962: Speaking German With An English Accent Charles Danson I'd been the wireless operator for quite some time, so I said to my comrade ‘Let’s change over now’... Previous Location Next Location

Poland Marysin Memories 983: The Struggle To Stay Alive Helen Aronson BEM We were taken to a disused prison. People were crying & hungry, not knowing anything. In the morning, Chaim Rumkowski came... Previous Location Next Location

Buchenwald Memories 990: The Shock Marianne Summerfield BEM My father was asked to report to Nazi headquarters. Stupidly, although my mother told him not to, he just walked into it... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

971: Equalising What Happened Dr Charlotte Feldman, 100-years-old at the time of her interview, came to Britain in 1939. Born in Bratislava, Charlotte remembers the rise of the antisemitic Hlinka party: Dr Charlotte Feldman 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 Dr Charlotte Feldman's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2024 • Learn More → Dr Charlotte Feldman Attempted Humiliation Close Family Murdered Never Finding Out Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Czechoslovakia See Locations Full Text Dr Charlotte Feldman, 100-years-old at the time of her interview, came to Britain in 1939. Born in Bratislava, Charlotte remembers the rise of the antisemitic Hlinka party: They used to demonstrate in the street below us. They used to shout, ‘Jews to Palestine!’ I had a very happy childhood. I did lots of sport. My mother was very beautiful, so I’m told. My father was quite a handsome man. Charlotte travelled to the UK on New Year's Eve, 1938. I was very forward & there were two dons from Oxford on the train. I had a whale of time! Charlotte was 15 when she came to London. She lived with the Mayor of Richmond, Mr Leon, & his family, attended The Old Vicarage School & studied medicine at Leeds General Infirmary. Charlotte's father was murdered in Auschwitz. I didn't get any details. I found it difficult. Charlotte never discovered what happened to her mother. I always felt that there must be something to equalise what's happened & I always thought my long life makes up for their short lives. 971: Equalising What Happened Dr Charlotte Feldman Edited from Dr Charlotte Feldman's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2024 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Germany Lüneburg Heath Memories 962: Speaking German With An English Accent Charles Danson I'd been the wireless operator for quite some time, so I said to my comrade ‘Let’s change over now’... Previous Location Next Location

In Hiding Memories 924: The Babies Not Sent To Auschwitz Jacques Weisser BEM I have absolutely no memory of any kind whatsoever about the war other than what I have been told... Read Full Memory 929: Fending For Myself Aged 9 Stephen Nagy I contracted scarlet fever. You had to go to an isolation hospital for six weeks. The fascist Hungarians took over. So, I was stuck in hospital... Read Full Memory 955: 28 People Hiding In The Loft Rivka Reich We thought going to Auschwitz would be just hard labour. But my father was different. He thought we must escape... Read Full Memory 957: How To Hide In Vienna Father Francis Wahle Letter-writing was timetabled: once a week. But from 1942 onwards there were no letters in reply because my parents went underground... 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 981: 4th of the 4th, 1944 Jack Cynamon My first recollection is aeroplanes in the sky in Brussels. One morning the sky was full of aeroplanes. There must have been 60... Read Full Memory 985: Black Heart Outside The Flat Miriam Freedman It's difficult. Children feel very protected. Everything goes well. Then all of a sudden you see terrible things, like people disappearing... Read Full Memory 992: Chickenpox Bridget Newman I was stuck. Then one day, the doorbell rang: a Gestapo. He came in, he was really rather nice. He had white hair & a big, white moustache... Read Full Memory 996: How To Hide In Berlin Hans Danziger My father had nerves of steel. Before the war, Jews were obliged to put ‘Israel’ in front of their names. My father refused... Read Full Memory 999: The Caretaker & His Daughter Miriam Freedman At night time, the caretaker used to bring us food. We sat there, never able to talk, no toys or books or anything. Things becoming all the time worse... 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

Canada Montreal Memories 952: Interned On My 16th Birthday John Goldsmith In 1940, on my 16th birthday, I was writing an English essay & looking through the window & I saw a policeman... Previous Location Next Location

978: Hitler On The Loudspeakers Simon Jochnowitz, born in Fulda, Germany, to Polish parents, came to Manchester with his family in 1939: Simon Jochnowitz 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 Simon Jochnowitz's interview with Kristin Baumgartner for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, June 2024 • Learn More → Simon Jochnowitz Deported Polenaktion Saved By Rabbi Schonfeld Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Germany See Locations Full Text Simon Jochnowitz, born in Fulda, Germany, to Polish parents, came to Manchester with his family in 1939: I remember Hitler on all the loudspeakers everywhere. You couldn’t escape it. I remember being in bed & saying “Oh I can’t sleep, I can’t sleep”. My mother said, “there’s nothing I can do about it." I remember them [Nazis] going through the high street. I used to go like that with that my hand [Nazi salute] until my sister said, “Don’t do that.” I wanted to be like everybody else [laughs]. In late October 1938, Simon & his family were sent to the Polish border as part of the Polenaktion. They wanted to get rid of all the Polish Jews. They came on Friday afternoon. I remember my sisters packing suitcases. Half were full of books. You don’t think straight. They put us in a van & took us to Kassel. It was the meeting point for all Jews who lived around that area. My father was able to make Kiddush: he had two loaves of bread. It was the first time I saw non-religious Jews. They were very different. Then we went on a train. They locked us in the train. Crazy. Why they locked us in lord knows, because we weren’t going to escape [laughs]. We got to the border to Poland, & a civilian policeperson came on & he said, "no". Because Poles had closed the borders, they wouldn’t let us in, fortunately. Then he said, "you can go wherever you want now." My father just couldn’t take it in, he was so wound up, he just couldn’t take it in. Then we were sent back to Fulda. Of course with efficiency they sealed our apartments, so we couldn’t get into our apartment anymore [laughs]. Simon & his family came to Manchester with help from Rabbi Schonfeld. We took the train to Frankfurt & then onto Belgium. My mother wanted to get off & see her brother in Antwerp. But my father said, “You’re not getting off until we get to England.” So she didn’t see him. He didn’t survive. My cousin his daughter had two children from her first marriage. And those poor children, I think they went to a cinema in Brussels, & they were all ordered out of the cinema & shot on the spot. So, you know, they didn’t survive. My parents found it a bit difficult in Manchester at first. People would ask stupid questions like “Did you have running water in Germany?” At the beginning my parents would say, “It was better in Germany,” you know, everything was better in Germany, but that didn’t last long. We still drank coffee instead of tea, so we were able to exchange some of our coal for coffee [laughs]. I was eight years old when I came, so my German is very rudimentary now. I didn’t identify with anything, so, you know, I basically became a little English boy. 978: Hitler On The Loudspeakers Simon Jochnowitz Edited from Simon Jochnowitz's interview with Kristin Baumgartner for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, June 2024 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Germany Uckermark Memories 953: Slave Labour In Ravensbrück Selma van de Perre They transported us to Ravensbrück. Terrible. Screaming, shouting, dogs & whips. The dogs had the same clothes as the soldiers... Previous Location Next Location

Trude Silman MBE, Bratislava, wartime: 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. I really don’t know exactly what happened to her. Initially she was in Bratislava. I’m given to understand she worked as a nurse in the Jewish hospital. Eventually she must have moved out of there & gone further East when there was the Slovak uprising. As far as we can gather, but we have no proof, she went out one day & never came back. They assumed she was one of the people who was picked up & shot. But we have no clear evidence as to what actually happened to her, we believe she was sheltered by a Roman Catholic priest, & we actually had some proof of this, because, after the war, the priest’s housekeeper somehow or other sent us a letter telling us about some possessions of my mothers, which they were placing with another aunt. But we’ve lost the letter so we’ve no idea what, where & how. I’ve never been able to trace it. If you don’t know the place, if you don’t know the name, if you haven’t the time, if you don’t speak the language, it is not easy to do. So we hope that possibly still some literature will come up from somewhere. The Red Cross haven’t been able to trace her & there’s no record. She seemed to lead the sort of life that most of her sisters lived. They did their basic cooking, they did their shopping, they met in the coffee house to talk, they went to each others’ houses & that was basically it. But my mother was a very early riser. She used to go & do the market shopping very early in the morning, about five in the morning when the market started, I remember that. She was a fabulous cook, & unfortunately I never picked it up, because I was too young at that age to learn about those sorts of things. It's a tragedy, a real tragedy, what happened to my parents. I only found out relatively recently that my aunt & uncle managed to get them a post as housekeepers, domestics. My father was already well in his 50s, & he decided he was too old to make that sort of a commitment & he didn’t think that the Holocaust would arrive, he didn’t think it was going to be what it was going to be. So my parents didn’t come out. I only discovered this when I found a document from one of the refugee committees. There was a little ‘D’ against my parents' name that indicated that they were granted a domestic permit. They never took it up. So that was that, I only discovered that relatively recently. In 1939 Trude came to the UK with her aunt. Her brother & sister were already there. Up to about 1941 were letters written on what I would call toilet paper & my father did most of the writing, used to be a little sheet of paper & if it came to me I would pass it to my sister, & she would pass it onto my brother, so we used to circulate our letters. That’s why some of them have gone astray, because my brother destroyed all of his stuff, he couldn’t bear it. So we lost a lot. Then the letters stopped. My father was transported to Auschwitz on the 19th of April, 1942. The death certificate said the 8th of May. So he survived 3 weeks in Auschwitz, which doesn’t surprise me, because when he was transported he had actually injured his leg, & my cousin who saw him off said he was limping when he went on the transport. You know, you were expecting to see your parents very soon. There wasn’t a day, every single night I used to pray they’re all right, & that they’ll be safe, & I’ll see them soon, this went on for years & years & years. But again the emotion has gone out of this as the years have come on, that goes, you only remember the nice things. 997: My Mother & Father Trude Silman MBE 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 997: My Mother & Father ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Trude Silman MBE Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Trude Silman MBE's interview with Dr Rosalyn Livshin for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, November 2003 • Learn More → Trude Silman MBE Close Family Murdered Finding Out Never Finding Out Red Cross Letters Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Czechoslovakia See Locations Full Text Trude Silman MBE, Bratislava, wartime: 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. I really don’t know exactly what happened to her. Initially she was in Bratislava. I’m given to understand she worked as a nurse in the Jewish hospital. Eventually she must have moved out of there & gone further East when there was the Slovak uprising. As far as we can gather, but we have no proof, she went out one day & never came back. They assumed she was one of the people who was picked up & shot. But we have no clear evidence as to what actually happened to her, we believe she was sheltered by a Roman Catholic priest, & we actually had some proof of this, because, after the war, the priest’s housekeeper somehow or other sent us a letter telling us about some possessions of my mothers, which they were placing with another aunt. But we’ve lost the letter so we’ve no idea what, where & how. I’ve never been able to trace it. If you don’t know the place, if you don’t know the name, if you haven’t the time, if you don’t speak the language, it is not easy to do. So we hope that possibly still some literature will come up from somewhere. The Red Cross haven’t been able to trace her & there’s no record. She seemed to lead the sort of life that most of her sisters lived. They did their basic cooking, they did their shopping, they met in the coffee house to talk, they went to each others’ houses & that was basically it. But my mother was a very early riser. She used to go & do the market shopping very early in the morning, about five in the morning when the market started, I remember that. She was a fabulous cook, & unfortunately I never picked it up, because I was too young at that age to learn about those sorts of things. It's a tragedy, a real tragedy, what happened to my parents. I only found out relatively recently that my aunt & uncle managed to get them a post as housekeepers, domestics. My father was already well in his 50s, & he decided he was too old to make that sort of a commitment & he didn’t think that the Holocaust would arrive, he didn’t think it was going to be what it was going to be. So my parents didn’t come out. I only discovered this when I found a document from one of the refugee committees. There was a little ‘D’ against my parents' name that indicated that they were granted a domestic permit. They never took it up. So that was that, I only discovered that relatively recently. In 1939 Trude came to the UK with her aunt. Her brother & sister were already there. Up to about 1941 were letters written on what I would call toilet paper & my father did most of the writing, used to be a little sheet of paper & if it came to me I would pass it to my sister, & she would pass it onto my brother, so we used to circulate our letters. That’s why some of them have gone astray, because my brother destroyed all of his stuff, he couldn’t bear it. So we lost a lot. Then the letters stopped. My father was transported to Auschwitz on the 19th of April, 1942. The death certificate said the 8th of May. So he survived 3 weeks in Auschwitz, which doesn’t surprise me, because when he was transported he had actually injured his leg, & my cousin who saw him off said he was limping when he went on the transport. You know, you were expecting to see your parents very soon. There wasn’t a day, every single night I used to pray they’re all right, & that they’ll be safe, & I’ll see them soon, this went on for years & years & years. But again the emotion has gone out of this as the years have come on, that goes, you only remember the nice things. 997: My Mother & Father Trude Silman MBE Adapted from Trude Silman MBE's interview with Dr Rosalyn Livshin for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, November 2003 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Spain Pyrenees 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... 981: 4th of the 4th, 1944 Jack Cynamon My first recollection is aeroplanes in the sky in Brussels. One morning the sky was full of aeroplanes. There must have been 60... Previous Location Next Location

932: A Cigarette For An Iron Cross 1944: Harry Weinberger is sent to Italy with the British Army’s Eighth Army: Harry Weinberger 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 Harry Weinberger's interview with Helen Lloyd for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, March 2005 • Learn More → Harry Weinberger British Army Nerves of Steel Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Italy See Locations Full Text 1944: Harry Weinberger is sent to Italy with the British Army’s Eighth Army: A very young lieutenant in charge of us told me that the British Army will fight to the last alien, to the last foreign soldier. German Jews & Poles & Indians & all the rest of us. In Naples we were told we weren't allowed into town. But my friend Jolle & I decided to investigate. A lorry came with supplies & we hopped into the back & went into Naples. Big signs: ‘out of bounds to other ranks’ but we didn’t think there'd be many military police about. In town there were signs ‘Egg & Chips’. We were surprised to see some with topless waitresses. It was wartime & we were in Italy. Then we were taken to a station. The train stopped at Casino, where the battles had been. Suddenly there were a lot of civilians. Our commanders sold all their equipment except their guns & blankets to the Italians. They got drinks instead. I said to the officer, ‘How can you justify it? We were told it would be a court martial offence if you lose a pair of shoelaces.’ He said: ‘lost in action’. After that they were totally drunk for days until we came a place near Rimini. The train couldn’t go further, the tracks had been destroyed. We were taken by lorry to a village where the houses were almost completely destroyed & told to make ourselves at home. We thought we’d be picked up by trucks again but instead we made little nests for ourselves, we had groundsheets & blankets. Then we had to carry all our equipment & walk. At night you saw the flashes of guns. I was OK until some old people crossed themselves as we went past. They felt sorry for us. Some tanks went past us & Jolle said ‘Good luck mate’, & one of the men in an open tank turned around & told him to…you know, every other word was a swearword. We all talked a completely different kind of language. Then things got confused. We lost the commanders & were sent to a holding unit. I remember a sergeant telling us it wasn’t like a football match where there were rules. The German army was in retreat & the sergeant wanted about 8 or 9 of us to see if things were clear. In a clearing in front of a wood there was a hut. At that time, I don’t know why & I don’t know how, but instead of normal guns we had machine pistols. And we'd forgotten all the things we were taught in the army. We remembered Errol Flynn & films where people take cover behind trees & one will dash forward. That’s what we did. We got to the hut & kicked in the door. There was nobody about, it was an abandoned store for the German army. And instead of taking the bottles & things we just emptied our machine guns into this, we totally wrecked it, probably because we'd been afraid. Near the Yugoslav border, it was very embarrassing: I got separated from the others. Only infantry there, no tanks or planes. And I saw a German machine gun aimed at me. I suppose a film actor would have shot them or said, ‘You’re my prisoners’. I wasn’t afraid at all. I was just acutely embarrassed. I turned round & nothing happened, they didn’t fire at me. I thought afterwards: they were as pleased that nothing happened as I was. An another occasion: waiting for an attack, lying at the edge of a field, very early morning, we hadn’t slept. That was the first time I saw German soldiers near. They came & surrendered. Someone arranged for barbed wire to be put around the field. It was like a herd of goats: they stank, whether it was fear or they hadn’t washed or whatever. One of them was very frightened. I put my hand in my pocket to get a cigarette & he cringed. I offered him a cigarette & he gave me an Iron Cross. That’s the only thing I’ve got from the war. Another occasion: a staff car with a German officer came & asked where to find our headquarters. I said in German: ‘You can get out here’. He was so surprised. 932: A Cigarette For An Iron Cross Harry Weinberger Edited from Harry Weinberger's interview with Helen Lloyd for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, March 2005 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts