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986: The End of Łódź Ghetto Helen Aronson, Łódź Ghetto, 1944: Helen Aronson BEM 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 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

Bronia Snow came to Britain in 1939 on a Nicholas Winton Kindertransport from Prague: My parents always discussed everything. But not a word was spoken about my going to England. So I found myself one fine day, my mother packing a suitcase, me packing a little rucksack full of my doll, my favourite book & so on. On a platform of the main railway station, & getting on a train, with no idea it was going to happen. The platform was full of not only parents with children, but German soldiers with fixed bayonets. I was scared stiff. I thought: since they want to kill us all, why do they let the children, the next generation go? So I thought they would attack us, I was really scared. The idea was: my mother had a brother in New York who was very comfortably off. We were all going there. My parents & brother were going to pick me up in London, they were just waiting for a document called an affidavit which never came in time. I would have been an American person, instead of which I became an English schoolgirl. When I first arrived, I was frightened, alone. I didn’t speak a word of English. My aunt & uncle lacked my parents' warmth. They lived a life of luxury, with servants. It was a completely different atmosphere. The children were with a governess in the nursery, the parents were golfing, playing bridge, you know the sort. I had one last letter from my father, from Theresienstadt, saying, “We’re not starving, we have potatoes to eat.” Then I had the final notification. I was in the sixth form, 1945. One day before school, as I was getting ready, I had a notification informing me that on such & such a date, transport number so & so, my parents & brother were taken to Auschwitz. The Germans kept detailed numbers, records of the people they were going to murder. Thoroughly ridiculous. They were sent to Auschwitz & no more was heard of them. So I go to school–I mean that was a big shock, because all through the war I had lived in hope of being reunited, we were a very close loving family. So that as closure, I knew I’d never see them again. So I go to school as usual, [laughs], our headmistress announces: “Girls, we are very fortunate to have with us today Miss Moose who has just come back from Bergen-Belsen & will tell us all about it.” So I sat through that, I didn’t want to have to climb over everybody’s legs, & make an exhibition of myself, so I sat & listened to it all. Didn’t do me any harm, made me even more grateful for what I had escaped. And the chances I had had, & I determined I would try & live the sort of life my parents would have wanted me to live, so they’d be proud of me, & make the best of my chances. I became top of my year, was the school hockey team champion. I became an English schoolgirl, I loved it. But when I was in the sixth form my headmistress called me into her room & said, “Bronia, we would have liked to have made you head girl, but your lack of tact is against you.” [Laughs]. I had no idea I was tactless. “But we will make you senior prefect, in charge of discipline instead,” I’d been such a naughty child & there was I in charge of discipline, it was an absolute hoot. What’s lacking in England is an education, the young aren’t being taught history. They’re in cloud cuckoo land, they think England will always be free & democratic, without them even bothering to vote. They don’t realise that if the good people don’t bother, the baddies take over. Just what happened in Germany. Hitler took over before people realised. 979: Sitting Through That Bronia Snow 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 979: Sitting Through That ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Bronia Snow Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Bronia Snow's interview with Sheila Rabin for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, July 2024 • Learn More → Bronia Snow Close Family Murdered Finding Out Kindertransport Nicholas Winton Kindertransport Recovery Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Czechoslovakia See Locations Full Text Bronia Snow came to Britain in 1939 on a Nicholas Winton Kindertransport from Prague: My parents always discussed everything. But not a word was spoken about my going to England. So I found myself one fine day, my mother packing a suitcase, me packing a little rucksack full of my doll, my favourite book & so on. On a platform of the main railway station, & getting on a train, with no idea it was going to happen. The platform was full of not only parents with children, but German soldiers with fixed bayonets. I was scared stiff. I thought: since they want to kill us all, why do they let the children, the next generation go? So I thought they would attack us, I was really scared. The idea was: my mother had a brother in New York who was very comfortably off. We were all going there. My parents & brother were going to pick me up in London, they were just waiting for a document called an affidavit which never came in time. I would have been an American person, instead of which I became an English schoolgirl. When I first arrived, I was frightened, alone. I didn’t speak a word of English. My aunt & uncle lacked my parents' warmth. They lived a life of luxury, with servants. It was a completely different atmosphere. The children were with a governess in the nursery, the parents were golfing, playing bridge, you know the sort. I had one last letter from my father, from Theresienstadt, saying, “We’re not starving, we have potatoes to eat.” Then I had the final notification. I was in the sixth form, 1945. One day before school, as I was getting ready, I had a notification informing me that on such & such a date, transport number so & so, my parents & brother were taken to Auschwitz. The Germans kept detailed numbers, records of the people they were going to murder. Thoroughly ridiculous. They were sent to Auschwitz & no more was heard of them. So I go to school–I mean that was a big shock, because all through the war I had lived in hope of being reunited, we were a very close loving family. So that as closure, I knew I’d never see them again. So I go to school as usual, [laughs], our headmistress announces: “Girls, we are very fortunate to have with us today Miss Moose who has just come back from Bergen-Belsen & will tell us all about it.” So I sat through that, I didn’t want to have to climb over everybody’s legs, & make an exhibition of myself, so I sat & listened to it all. Didn’t do me any harm, made me even more grateful for what I had escaped. And the chances I had had, & I determined I would try & live the sort of life my parents would have wanted me to live, so they’d be proud of me, & make the best of my chances. I became top of my year, was the school hockey team champion. I became an English schoolgirl, I loved it. But when I was in the sixth form my headmistress called me into her room & said, “Bronia, we would have liked to have made you head girl, but your lack of tact is against you.” [Laughs]. I had no idea I was tactless. “But we will make you senior prefect, in charge of discipline instead,” I’d been such a naughty child & there was I in charge of discipline, it was an absolute hoot. What’s lacking in England is an education, the young aren’t being taught history. They’re in cloud cuckoo land, they think England will always be free & democratic, without them even bothering to vote. They don’t realise that if the good people don’t bother, the baddies take over. Just what happened in Germany. Hitler took over before people realised. 979: Sitting Through That Bronia Snow Adapted from Bronia Snow's interview with Sheila Rabin for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, July 2024 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Eva Mendelsson, Offenburg, November 9, 1938: When you're a child, when nasty things happen, you remember. It makes a tremendous impression, even if you don’t quite understand. Kristallnacht. They came at 7am. They yanked my father out in his nightie. Two of those… I don’t know whether they were SA or SS. They took him away. Then my mother rang round & said, “What’s happened?” “What? Did it happen to you?” “They’ve taken Ed away.” They found out that everybody else was in the same boat. All the men had been collected. They did not desecrate the synagogue then, because it was attached to another building. But they took the Torah, threw it out of the window. They didn’t even know how to draw a Hakenkreuz. They didn’t make a good job of it. To desecrate the portion - it’s just horrific, yes? My father then disappeared then for six weeks. They took him to prison. They made them sing sing: 'Muss i denn, muss i denn zum Städele hinaus und du mein Schatz bleibst hier...' [I have to leave the town, I have to leave the town, but you, my darling, you stay here] 'Wenn i komm, wenn i komm, wenn i NIE wieder komm' [The original song lyrics are: 'when I come back', but she sings “'when I NEVER come back']. The 10-minute journey to the station took them an hour. People were looking at them. They made them wear a top hat so that they could make fun of them. You know, not very- not very nice. The journey to Dachau: I can’t tell you. They were kept at night in a prison. A fortnight later, my mother got a postcard. 'Es geht mir gut. Bitte beobachtet die Beschreibung.' In other words: 25 words we’re allowed to write. On the 20th of December, there was a ring on the bell. I went down, & I saw my father. I was afraid of him. I shouted, 'Mutti, Mutti, ich glaub’, es ist Vater!' [Mum, mum, I think, it is Dad!] His head was shaven. He had lost so much weight. I was a bit frightened of him, somehow, this bald head. It was just, you know, I was 7. My mother she came of course, & they had this reunion. Apparently that’s the only time that she’d seen my father cry. Then she went out & she did some shopping. Sauerkraut & Würstchen. That was rather funny, that that made an impression, you know? During the lunch he explained he had to leave within six months or else they would harm the whole family. Six months later, my father went on a certificate to England, on transit to Palestine. The idea was to bring the whole family over, afterwards. But bear in mind, that was in June ’39. And war broke out September 3. You had July, August, so you barely had eight weeks. In those 8 weeks he could not get us out. So, my father went to England. He landed up in the Kitchener camp in Deal. They had correspondence, but once the war broke out, you can’t write anymore. Everything stopped. Now my mother was left with 3 children. 3 children. I don’t know what she lived on. I have no idea... Can’t tell you. My mother’s first reaction or declaration was, she went to the pharmacy to buy soap. I thought that was very odd. Soap is important? War? You know, that was the connection. Maybe in the First World War there was a shortage. I can’t tell you. Then she was frightened for us. We were so near the French border. She decided she would like to go inland more, because we were so close. 28km from Strasbourg. So she was afraid of the French bombing. So, we went to Munich. A rented room with a Jewish family. From house to flat, from flat to one room. 989: Buying Sauerkraut & Soap Eva Mendelsson 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 989: Buying Sauerkraut & Soap ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Eva Mendelsson Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Eva Mendelsson's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, May 2016 • Learn More → Eva Mendelsson Attempted Humiliation Dachau Encounter With Nazi Officials Food Kitchener Camp November Pogrom / Kristallnacht Pre-war Camp Reunited Song Torah Destroyed Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Germany See Locations Full Text Eva Mendelsson, Offenburg, November 9, 1938: When you're a child, when nasty things happen, you remember. It makes a tremendous impression, even if you don’t quite understand. Kristallnacht. They came at 7am. They yanked my father out in his nightie. Two of those… I don’t know whether they were SA or SS. They took him away. Then my mother rang round & said, “What’s happened?” “What? Did it happen to you?” “They’ve taken Ed away.” They found out that everybody else was in the same boat. All the men had been collected. They did not desecrate the synagogue then, because it was attached to another building. But they took the Torah, threw it out of the window. They didn’t even know how to draw a Hakenkreuz. They didn’t make a good job of it. To desecrate the portion - it’s just horrific, yes? My father then disappeared then for six weeks. They took him to prison. They made them sing sing: 'Muss i denn, muss i denn zum Städele hinaus und du mein Schatz bleibst hier...' [I have to leave the town, I have to leave the town, but you, my darling, you stay here] 'Wenn i komm, wenn i komm, wenn i NIE wieder komm' [The original song lyrics are: 'when I come back', but she sings “'when I NEVER come back']. The 10-minute journey to the station took them an hour. People were looking at them. They made them wear a top hat so that they could make fun of them. You know, not very- not very nice. The journey to Dachau: I can’t tell you. They were kept at night in a prison. A fortnight later, my mother got a postcard. 'Es geht mir gut. Bitte beobachtet die Beschreibung.' In other words: 25 words we’re allowed to write. On the 20th of December, there was a ring on the bell. I went down, & I saw my father. I was afraid of him. I shouted, 'Mutti, Mutti, ich glaub’, es ist Vater!' [Mum, mum, I think, it is Dad!] His head was shaven. He had lost so much weight. I was a bit frightened of him, somehow, this bald head. It was just, you know, I was 7. My mother she came of course, & they had this reunion. Apparently that’s the only time that she’d seen my father cry. Then she went out & she did some shopping. Sauerkraut & Würstchen. That was rather funny, that that made an impression, you know? During the lunch he explained he had to leave within six months or else they would harm the whole family. Six months later, my father went on a certificate to England, on transit to Palestine. The idea was to bring the whole family over, afterwards. But bear in mind, that was in June ’39. And war broke out September 3. You had July, August, so you barely had eight weeks. In those 8 weeks he could not get us out. So, my father went to England. He landed up in the Kitchener camp in Deal. They had correspondence, but once the war broke out, you can’t write anymore. Everything stopped. Now my mother was left with 3 children. 3 children. I don’t know what she lived on. I have no idea... Can’t tell you. My mother’s first reaction or declaration was, she went to the pharmacy to buy soap. I thought that was very odd. Soap is important? War? You know, that was the connection. Maybe in the First World War there was a shortage. I can’t tell you. Then she was frightened for us. We were so near the French border. She decided she would like to go inland more, because we were so close. 28km from Strasbourg. So she was afraid of the French bombing. So, we went to Munich. A rented room with a Jewish family. From house to flat, from flat to one room. 989: Buying Sauerkraut & Soap Eva Mendelsson Adapted from Eva Mendelsson's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, May 2016 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Jack Cynamon came to Britain in 1945 after spending part of WW2 in hiding in Belgium: My first recollection is aeroplanes in the sky in Brussels. One morning the sky was full of aeroplanes. There must have been 60. We didn't know what to do. My parents packed a few things, went to the railway station & embarked on the train, in a cattle truck with straw. The train went on & on for 5 days. They were fed by people at the stations, with food & water, they carried on until they reached the Pyrenees. My father worked on a potato farm, they both did, picking potatoes for a farmer, stayed there for about two months & then returned to Brussels because they found out that things weren’t as bad as originally thought. Actually, things were not so bad in Belgium until 1942. I can’t recollect going to school but I must have gone to school of some form. Then in '42 things started to get really tough. We all had to start wearing a Star of David. We were registered as Jews. My mother & father decided to try & escape. First they tried to get to Spain. They found a guide, he took them all but at the border he decided to take their money & leave them. Then we came back to Belgium, & then they tried again. They tried a second time to escape to Switzerland & again the guide took their money & left them at the border. Then things in Belgium became really desperate. They decided to start going to a hiding place. The only way they had currency, my mother had small diamonds & a specially made shoe. She hid the diamonds in the heel of this specially made shoe. Then they went into hiding. The person that looked after them was a guy by the name of Cnudde. He worked for my father & was able to bring food & the like. He hid them in an attic, I’m not sure where. I was in that attic as well. Then they realised that they could not keep me in an attic. I was 8. I was too – I wanted to run & do things & do what boys do. So one day I remember walking along & we came along to a church & my father said goodbye to me & they left me with a priest, & that was the very last time I saw my father. I vaguely remember saying a sort of goodbye. That was it. The very last time I saw my father. I became a choirboy, in a very lovely place – with other children. I became a choirboy, with all the bells & whistles & everything else. I had blue eyes & blonde hair, I blended in. I can’t recollect anybody or any of the things that I did when I was there. I was sort of in a – in a quandary. I didn't know what was what. You just go with the flow. I remember being liberated in 1944, the German army leaving, using horse-drawn carriages, pulling big guns. I recall very vividly that same afternoon the American tanks coming into view. 6 tanks & a jeep. They showered us with sweets & chewing gum. My parents were still in hiding. One day there was a bang on the door because the Germans were doing a house-to-house search for Jews. There was a banging on the door & the Gestapo came in & discovered them. My mother tells me that the very last words my father said to my mother was [gets upset] she was – it's painful. It’s emotional. 'If you ever find Jackie, promise me he will be bar mitzvahed'. He was taken to Mechelen, a holding camp & then to Auschwitz, in one of the very last transports: on the fourth of the fourth, 1944. So many times I wake up at 4:44 in the morning, thinking about him, a very significant number for me. I woke up this morning with the same. My mother was British-born so she went to an intern camp, finished up in La Bourboule which is in the Massif Central, which is really quite a nice place. I joined her there after the war. I was in Brussels & out comes my mother. I was, to be truthful, I was horrified. She wanted me to go back with her. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay with the church, with the priest who loved me. My mother was at that stage a sort of a stranger. I hadn’t seen her for 2½ years." 981: 4th of the 4th, 1944 Jack Cynamon 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 981: 4th of the 4th, 1944 ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Jack Cynamon Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Jack Cynamon's interview with Thamar Barnett for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, July 2024 • Learn More → Jack Cynamon Betrayed Close Family Murdered Helped By Non-Jews Hidden Child Hiding Valuables In Hiding Liberation Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Belgium See Locations Full Text Jack Cynamon came to Britain in 1945 after spending part of WW2 in hiding in Belgium: My first recollection is aeroplanes in the sky in Brussels. One morning the sky was full of aeroplanes. There must have been 60. We didn't know what to do. My parents packed a few things, went to the railway station & embarked on the train, in a cattle truck with straw. The train went on & on for 5 days. They were fed by people at the stations, with food & water, they carried on until they reached the Pyrenees. My father worked on a potato farm, they both did, picking potatoes for a farmer, stayed there for about two months & then returned to Brussels because they found out that things weren’t as bad as originally thought. Actually, things were not so bad in Belgium until 1942. I can’t recollect going to school but I must have gone to school of some form. Then in '42 things started to get really tough. We all had to start wearing a Star of David. We were registered as Jews. My mother & father decided to try & escape. First they tried to get to Spain. They found a guide, he took them all but at the border he decided to take their money & leave them. Then we came back to Belgium, & then they tried again. They tried a second time to escape to Switzerland & again the guide took their money & left them at the border. Then things in Belgium became really desperate. They decided to start going to a hiding place. The only way they had currency, my mother had small diamonds & a specially made shoe. She hid the diamonds in the heel of this specially made shoe. Then they went into hiding. The person that looked after them was a guy by the name of Cnudde. He worked for my father & was able to bring food & the like. He hid them in an attic, I’m not sure where. I was in that attic as well. Then they realised that they could not keep me in an attic. I was 8. I was too – I wanted to run & do things & do what boys do. So one day I remember walking along & we came along to a church & my father said goodbye to me & they left me with a priest, & that was the very last time I saw my father. I vaguely remember saying a sort of goodbye. That was it. The very last time I saw my father. I became a choirboy, in a very lovely place – with other children. I became a choirboy, with all the bells & whistles & everything else. I had blue eyes & blonde hair, I blended in. I can’t recollect anybody or any of the things that I did when I was there. I was sort of in a – in a quandary. I didn't know what was what. You just go with the flow. I remember being liberated in 1944, the German army leaving, using horse-drawn carriages, pulling big guns. I recall very vividly that same afternoon the American tanks coming into view. 6 tanks & a jeep. They showered us with sweets & chewing gum. My parents were still in hiding. One day there was a bang on the door because the Germans were doing a house-to-house search for Jews. There was a banging on the door & the Gestapo came in & discovered them. My mother tells me that the very last words my father said to my mother was [gets upset] she was – it's painful. It’s emotional. 'If you ever find Jackie, promise me he will be bar mitzvahed'. He was taken to Mechelen, a holding camp & then to Auschwitz, in one of the very last transports: on the fourth of the fourth, 1944. So many times I wake up at 4:44 in the morning, thinking about him, a very significant number for me. I woke up this morning with the same. My mother was British-born so she went to an intern camp, finished up in La Bourboule which is in the Massif Central, which is really quite a nice place. I joined her there after the war. I was in Brussels & out comes my mother. I was, to be truthful, I was horrified. She wanted me to go back with her. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay with the church, with the priest who loved me. My mother was at that stage a sort of a stranger. I hadn’t seen her for 2½ years." 981: 4th of the 4th, 1944 Jack Cynamon Adapted from Jack Cynamon's interview with Thamar Barnett for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, July 2024 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Albert Lester was 11 & a boarder at a Jewish school in Esslingen during the November Pogrom, November 9, 1938: I was playing with a little car in the common room when there was this huge commotion, children were running, screaming. I opened the door & was swept away by the screaming children. I went down the corridor & into the dining room, down to the kitchen under the spiral staircase, over the kitchen garden, over the fence. There was a huge drop down to the pavement in front of a 3-foot high wall. I thought if I jump here, I’m going to break my neck [laughs] or my legs. Then I saw a little boy next to me hang himself on the top of the wall by the fingertips & let himself drop & I did the same. So, I got out, got down all right. Then a lot of the children ran down towards the town, Esslingen. Some of us ran up to a little wood. We sat down on some broken tree stumps & didn’t know what was going on. We just sat down & waited. Then we decided after about quarter of an hour, you know, we can’t sit here all day, so one of the girls—there were about maybe six or seven of us—there was one girl & we sent her back to school to do some reconnaissance. We thought a girl wouldn't be harmed, while a boy might. Anyway, she went & came back & told us, yes, she spoke to somebody & we all have to go back. So we all trooped back, didn't know what was going on. Then we saw really what happened. In the playground stood men with clubs & sticks. The front door, this beautiful oak door, was ripped off its hinges, all the windows were smashed. There was a beautiful marble imitation statue of Michelangelo’s Moses. The head was chopped off & it was rolling on the ground. All the bottom panels of the classroom doors were all kicked in & it was shambles. We were then told to go into a classroom where there were already something like 30 or 40 children whom they collected. There we were told to sit down & not talk, just sit there. We sat there, nobody cried, we were all terrified but we didn't know what was happening. Then I was looking at this big hole in the door. I really thought they're going to put a machine gun in & just let us have it. I was quite—I really thought that this would happen. There was a guy with a big club keeping us quiet. Then he left after about quarter of an hour & then the headmaster, Dr Rothschild, came in. He sat down on the desk in front & he put his head in his hands & began to weep. Then of course everybody began to cry. The floodgates just opened up. After he composed himself, he told us what had happened, that this German, von Rath was killed by a Polish youth in Paris & there was a big uprising of the German, the “Volkswut”, & they smashed all the synagogues & set synagogues alight & burst in Jewish shops & arrested all Jewish men, including our teachers. I don't know why he wasn’t arrested, maybe because he was an old man, about 60. He told us that the school would close & we’d all be sent home. The Jewish community in Stuttgart nearby heard that they raided the school, so they came in their cars to pick us up & take us home to look after us while arrangements were made to send us home. I was given a ticket & sent home with my suitcase. In Heilbronn I changed trains into a D-Zug. I sat in the compartment alone when the door flew open & there stood a man in full SS uniform. I thought, my God, you know, this is going to be bad, so I pretended to be asleep. I prayed: ‘please dear God, don't let him start talking to me’. You know, what's a little boy doing on his own on an express train. I pretended to be asleep & he sat there. He didn't say anything. Mercifully at the next stop he got up, got to the door, a ‘Heil Hitler’, & left. 984: The Attack On Our School Albert Lester 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 984: The Attack On Our School ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Albert Lester Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Albert Lester's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, January 2024 • Learn More → Albert Lester Destruction Of Property Encounter With Nazi Officials November Pogrom / Kristallnacht Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Germany See Locations Full Text Albert Lester was 11 & a boarder at a Jewish school in Esslingen during the November Pogrom, November 9, 1938: I was playing with a little car in the common room when there was this huge commotion, children were running, screaming. I opened the door & was swept away by the screaming children. I went down the corridor & into the dining room, down to the kitchen under the spiral staircase, over the kitchen garden, over the fence. There was a huge drop down to the pavement in front of a 3-foot high wall. I thought if I jump here, I’m going to break my neck [laughs] or my legs. Then I saw a little boy next to me hang himself on the top of the wall by the fingertips & let himself drop & I did the same. So, I got out, got down all right. Then a lot of the children ran down towards the town, Esslingen. Some of us ran up to a little wood. We sat down on some broken tree stumps & didn’t know what was going on. We just sat down & waited. Then we decided after about quarter of an hour, you know, we can’t sit here all day, so one of the girls—there were about maybe six or seven of us—there was one girl & we sent her back to school to do some reconnaissance. We thought a girl wouldn't be harmed, while a boy might. Anyway, she went & came back & told us, yes, she spoke to somebody & we all have to go back. So we all trooped back, didn't know what was going on. Then we saw really what happened. In the playground stood men with clubs & sticks. The front door, this beautiful oak door, was ripped off its hinges, all the windows were smashed. There was a beautiful marble imitation statue of Michelangelo’s Moses. The head was chopped off & it was rolling on the ground. All the bottom panels of the classroom doors were all kicked in & it was shambles. We were then told to go into a classroom where there were already something like 30 or 40 children whom they collected. There we were told to sit down & not talk, just sit there. We sat there, nobody cried, we were all terrified but we didn't know what was happening. Then I was looking at this big hole in the door. I really thought they're going to put a machine gun in & just let us have it. I was quite—I really thought that this would happen. There was a guy with a big club keeping us quiet. Then he left after about quarter of an hour & then the headmaster, Dr Rothschild, came in. He sat down on the desk in front & he put his head in his hands & began to weep. Then of course everybody began to cry. The floodgates just opened up. After he composed himself, he told us what had happened, that this German, von Rath was killed by a Polish youth in Paris & there was a big uprising of the German, the “Volkswut”, & they smashed all the synagogues & set synagogues alight & burst in Jewish shops & arrested all Jewish men, including our teachers. I don't know why he wasn’t arrested, maybe because he was an old man, about 60. He told us that the school would close & we’d all be sent home. The Jewish community in Stuttgart nearby heard that they raided the school, so they came in their cars to pick us up & take us home to look after us while arrangements were made to send us home. I was given a ticket & sent home with my suitcase. In Heilbronn I changed trains into a D-Zug. I sat in the compartment alone when the door flew open & there stood a man in full SS uniform. I thought, my God, you know, this is going to be bad, so I pretended to be asleep. I prayed: ‘please dear God, don't let him start talking to me’. You know, what's a little boy doing on his own on an express train. I pretended to be asleep & he sat there. He didn't say anything. Mercifully at the next stop he got up, got to the door, a ‘Heil Hitler’, & left. 984: The Attack On Our School Albert Lester Adapted from Albert Lester's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, January 2024 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Ivor Perl BEM, born in Makó, Hungary, survived Auschwitz, Kaufering & Dachau camps: I was only 12 when I was taken to Auschwitz. I feel very, very hurt that I haven’t got many memories of my family. I think I've only got three photos. Painful. I'd give my children a hug when they were leaving for school: 'Give me a kiss, have a nice day'. But people living in that part of the world at that part of the time had couldn't afford that luxury. The antisemitism was constant. Growing up I accepted being called a dirty Jew." Ivor was 7th out of 9 siblings. My brother Alec was the only other one who survived. He was two years older than me. We went together to Auschwitz & survived together. He looked after me. He saved me from the gas oven twice, literally. I was in the gate of hell when he saved me. When the Germans overthrew the Hungarian government [1944], from the following morning, edicts started coming out against the Jews, gradually. Jews mustn’t marry non-Jewish people. You must be home by 7. You mustn’t go from a certain street. Gradual, gradual, until the noose. We used to play football with non-Jewish friends. Those same boys, when the time came for us to be herded into Szeged ghetto, they were ones that herded us there. After the war my brother spoke to those boys we used to play with. He said, how could you do that to us? They said: Well, we didn't know what was happening. All we were told along was the equivalent of the Boy Scouts. The sergeant used to come along: tomorrow, turn up with a stick & we’ll give you ten shillings. And they turned up & their job was to herd us into the ghetto. My father & two other brothers were sent to the labour battalion & then to Auschwitz. One day in Auschwitz, my brother & I were walking along & he said to me: our father is here. I said: how comes? We used to have roll calls every morning & one day my father didn't come back. We've got the date of his sort of passing away but not the when or why, I've got no idea. As a young boy, you never realise the severity of it all. To show you how it was: when I first went on the cattle truck I laid down on the floor and could see the trains running from the railway lines, clickety-click, click, & I said to myself: Oh, wow, isn't this an adventurous journey? My oldest brother David was a rabbi at 21. When he went to Auschwitz, I heard later on that he worked in a Sonderkommando. Have you heard of that? What happened: people used to arrive at Auschwitz & be segregated. Those that could work were put to one side, those who were not just went to the gas chamber. But what happened after the gas chamber? Who took the dead bodies from the gas chamber to the crematoria? The slaves. The Sonnderkommando. But the Sonnderkommando were not allowed to live more than 4 weeks. Every 4 weeks, they themselves were put in a gas oven. I mean. Can you imagine? I wrote a book. My wife said: why don't you do something useful? You’ve got a computer, nobody knows your life story, including your children, write your life story instead of wasting your time. So I sat down at the computer for half an hour, not knowing what to write. As I started typing, suddenly it all came out. I was 50. Until then I lived a life of denial. I thought the best way forward for me, get up from the dust, dust myself down, try not to think too much about the past because I didn't want to hurt the children or the wife. But afterwards the children kept on telling us, why didn't you tell us about it? We said: Because we didn't want to hurt you. They said: they didn't ask us because they didn't want to hurt us. But we didn't have the luxury of therapy in those days. Was it the right way to go about it? I don't know. I don't know. 988: Getting Up From The Dust Ivor Perl 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 988: Getting Up From The Dust ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Ivor Perl BEM Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Ivor Perl BEM's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, October 2024 • Learn More → Ivor Perl BEM Attempted Humiliation Auschwitz Betrayed Close Family Murdered Concentration Camp Ghetto Incarceration Not Remembering Recovery Telling The Story Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Hungary See Locations Full Text Ivor Perl BEM, born in Makó, Hungary, survived Auschwitz, Kaufering & Dachau camps: I was only 12 when I was taken to Auschwitz. I feel very, very hurt that I haven’t got many memories of my family. I think I've only got three photos. Painful. I'd give my children a hug when they were leaving for school: 'Give me a kiss, have a nice day'. But people living in that part of the world at that part of the time had couldn't afford that luxury. The antisemitism was constant. Growing up I accepted being called a dirty Jew." Ivor was 7th out of 9 siblings. My brother Alec was the only other one who survived. He was two years older than me. We went together to Auschwitz & survived together. He looked after me. He saved me from the gas oven twice, literally. I was in the gate of hell when he saved me. When the Germans overthrew the Hungarian government [1944], from the following morning, edicts started coming out against the Jews, gradually. Jews mustn’t marry non-Jewish people. You must be home by 7. You mustn’t go from a certain street. Gradual, gradual, until the noose. We used to play football with non-Jewish friends. Those same boys, when the time came for us to be herded into Szeged ghetto, they were ones that herded us there. After the war my brother spoke to those boys we used to play with. He said, how could you do that to us? They said: Well, we didn't know what was happening. All we were told along was the equivalent of the Boy Scouts. The sergeant used to come along: tomorrow, turn up with a stick & we’ll give you ten shillings. And they turned up & their job was to herd us into the ghetto. My father & two other brothers were sent to the labour battalion & then to Auschwitz. One day in Auschwitz, my brother & I were walking along & he said to me: our father is here. I said: how comes? We used to have roll calls every morning & one day my father didn't come back. We've got the date of his sort of passing away but not the when or why, I've got no idea. As a young boy, you never realise the severity of it all. To show you how it was: when I first went on the cattle truck I laid down on the floor and could see the trains running from the railway lines, clickety-click, click, & I said to myself: Oh, wow, isn't this an adventurous journey? My oldest brother David was a rabbi at 21. When he went to Auschwitz, I heard later on that he worked in a Sonderkommando. Have you heard of that? What happened: people used to arrive at Auschwitz & be segregated. Those that could work were put to one side, those who were not just went to the gas chamber. But what happened after the gas chamber? Who took the dead bodies from the gas chamber to the crematoria? The slaves. The Sonnderkommando. But the Sonnderkommando were not allowed to live more than 4 weeks. Every 4 weeks, they themselves were put in a gas oven. I mean. Can you imagine? I wrote a book. My wife said: why don't you do something useful? You’ve got a computer, nobody knows your life story, including your children, write your life story instead of wasting your time. So I sat down at the computer for half an hour, not knowing what to write. As I started typing, suddenly it all came out. I was 50. Until then I lived a life of denial. I thought the best way forward for me, get up from the dust, dust myself down, try not to think too much about the past because I didn't want to hurt the children or the wife. But afterwards the children kept on telling us, why didn't you tell us about it? We said: Because we didn't want to hurt you. They said: they didn't ask us because they didn't want to hurt us. But we didn't have the luxury of therapy in those days. Was it the right way to go about it? I don't know. I don't know. 988: Getting Up From The Dust Ivor Perl BEM Adapted from Ivor Perl BEM's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, October 2024 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

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. 980: Getting Streetwise Margot Harris 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 980: Getting Streetwise ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Margot Harris Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close 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 See Locations Full Text 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. 980: Getting Streetwise Margot Harris Adapted from Margot Harris'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

Homesick 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... 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... Previous Experience Next Experience

Red Cross Letters Memories 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... Previous Experience Next Experience