Maria Ault came to Britain with her younger sister Birgit on a Kindertransport in May 1939: My first guardians were fine But when we were evacuated in September 1939, we stayed with a very, very, very, very bad person who used to hit us. She didn't feed us properly. But who could we go to in Melton Mowbray? There was no Childline. She should have known better. She was a minister's wife. I was used as a cheap maid. One day, I was only 12, I was getting a lunch ready for a hotpot, which meant I had to peel onions & potatoes & carrots. And because I used the same knife for the potatoes & the onions, because I didn't change my knife, she hit me. Really hit me hard & said, ‘I've had enough of you, get out.’ It was raining. I took my sister & we walked through Melton Mowbray hand-in-hand. We had nowhere to go, nowhere at all. So, in the end, we were soaked. We went back & I think she was quite pleased to see us. I didn't tell anybody. How they ever found out, I think it might have been through my headmistress who used to have me in her study to give me extra lessons. I had my arm in a sling because my guardian was so cruel to us. I had very bad abscesses under my arm & I had my arm in a sling one day. My headmistress said, ‘Maria, what's – why are you wearing a sling?’ So, I told her. She said, ‘Let me look.’ So, she looked… She didn't ring that person up who I was staying with, she rang the doctor & said, ‘I'm taking Maria straight to the hospital.’ They said if I had – I wouldn't have lived if I had – not a few hours, because I was – it was blood poison. So we were moved, to a very nice house. But again, I was taken in as a maid. I had to leave school & be taken in as a maid. And one day I thought: is this my life? Because my parents were in Sweden, we didn't even know whether they were alive. Maria grew up in Hamburg. I was a very privileged little girl. We were brought up in a nursery with a nanny. Our house was always full of people & music. My mother was a singer & had a choir, they used to meet. And when they’d finished their tea up, my brother & I went down to the kitchen & took the cakes & ate them, which was lovely. I was strictly brought up, which was so good because when I came to England, there was no money. The very first memory I have of having a meal, they gave us fish paste sandwiches. My sister & I looked at each other & she took my hand & we went upstairs & cried our eyes out. Not because of the sandwiches, but because we’d just left our parents. But to cry over fish paste sandwiches, I laugh now, but I didn't laugh at the time. I'm so happy and so lucky that I've got a character where I say, this is what happened to you & you get on with life. But my sister was different. When she was very happily married, they emigrated to Canada. She had 2 children. And one day she couldn't stand it anymore. She had memories of when she was beaten. She used to faint, when we had that awful woman looking after us in Melton Mowbray. My sister used to be beaten & then she'd faint & it was just awful. She couldn't take it. So, unfortunately, two years ago, she wrote me a goodbye letter. We used to talk on the phone every week. We used to talk about our past & she just couldn't stand it anymore. She asked the doctor in Canada: can you take your own life? She was allowed. He gave her an overdose & she passed away two years ago, because she just couldn't stand it. It was definitely because of what happened to us. Because when she went to the psychiatrists the first time she tried to do it, he said: ‘It's all because of what happened to you in Melton Mowbray.’ I'm so happy and so lucky, so grateful that it hasn't happened to me. I remember when we first came over, in the dining car from Harwich to Liverpool Street. We were given porridge. One thing I couldn't stand was porridge, & nor could she. Her tears were rolling down her cheeks. So, when she wasn't looking, I took this porridge & ate it for her. She said, ‘I'll never, never forget it. I’ll never...’ 977: The Cruel Guardian Maria Ault 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 977: The Cruel Guardian ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Maria Ault Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from Maria Ault's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, May 2024 • Learn More → Maria Ault Attempted Humiliation Domestic Service Food Foster Family Kindertransport Staying With Strangers Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts England See Locations Full Text Maria Ault came to Britain with her younger sister Birgit on a Kindertransport in May 1939: My first guardians were fine But when we were evacuated in September 1939, we stayed with a very, very, very, very bad person who used to hit us. She didn't feed us properly. But who could we go to in Melton Mowbray? There was no Childline. She should have known better. She was a minister's wife. I was used as a cheap maid. One day, I was only 12, I was getting a lunch ready for a hotpot, which meant I had to peel onions & potatoes & carrots. And because I used the same knife for the potatoes & the onions, because I didn't change my knife, she hit me. Really hit me hard & said, ‘I've had enough of you, get out.’ It was raining. I took my sister & we walked through Melton Mowbray hand-in-hand. We had nowhere to go, nowhere at all. So, in the end, we were soaked. We went back & I think she was quite pleased to see us. I didn't tell anybody. How they ever found out, I think it might have been through my headmistress who used to have me in her study to give me extra lessons. I had my arm in a sling because my guardian was so cruel to us. I had very bad abscesses under my arm & I had my arm in a sling one day. My headmistress said, ‘Maria, what's – why are you wearing a sling?’ So, I told her. She said, ‘Let me look.’ So, she looked… She didn't ring that person up who I was staying with, she rang the doctor & said, ‘I'm taking Maria straight to the hospital.’ They said if I had – I wouldn't have lived if I had – not a few hours, because I was – it was blood poison. So we were moved, to a very nice house. But again, I was taken in as a maid. I had to leave school & be taken in as a maid. And one day I thought: is this my life? Because my parents were in Sweden, we didn't even know whether they were alive. Maria grew up in Hamburg. I was a very privileged little girl. We were brought up in a nursery with a nanny. Our house was always full of people & music. My mother was a singer & had a choir, they used to meet. And when they’d finished their tea up, my brother & I went down to the kitchen & took the cakes & ate them, which was lovely. I was strictly brought up, which was so good because when I came to England, there was no money. The very first memory I have of having a meal, they gave us fish paste sandwiches. My sister & I looked at each other & she took my hand & we went upstairs & cried our eyes out. Not because of the sandwiches, but because we’d just left our parents. But to cry over fish paste sandwiches, I laugh now, but I didn't laugh at the time. I'm so happy and so lucky that I've got a character where I say, this is what happened to you & you get on with life. But my sister was different. When she was very happily married, they emigrated to Canada. She had 2 children. And one day she couldn't stand it anymore. She had memories of when she was beaten. She used to faint, when we had that awful woman looking after us in Melton Mowbray. My sister used to be beaten & then she'd faint & it was just awful. She couldn't take it. So, unfortunately, two years ago, she wrote me a goodbye letter. We used to talk on the phone every week. We used to talk about our past & she just couldn't stand it anymore. She asked the doctor in Canada: can you take your own life? She was allowed. He gave her an overdose & she passed away two years ago, because she just couldn't stand it. It was definitely because of what happened to us. Because when she went to the psychiatrists the first time she tried to do it, he said: ‘It's all because of what happened to you in Melton Mowbray.’ I'm so happy and so lucky, so grateful that it hasn't happened to me. I remember when we first came over, in the dining car from Harwich to Liverpool Street. We were given porridge. One thing I couldn't stand was porridge, & nor could she. Her tears were rolling down her cheeks. So, when she wasn't looking, I took this porridge & ate it for her. She said, ‘I'll never, never forget it. I’ll never...’ 977: The Cruel Guardian Maria Ault Edited from Maria Ault's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, May 2024 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

984: The Attack On Our School Albert Lester was 11 & a boarder at a Jewish school in Esslingen during the November Pogrom, November 9, 1938: Albert Lester 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 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

Marianne Summerfield BEM Read full biography at The AJR / Refugee Voices Testimony Archive 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 Person Next Person

George Donath, born in Ujpest, Hungary, was 13 on May 18, 1944 when Germany invaded Hungary: The 19th of March was a Sunday. We went to my grandparents for lunch as usual. All of a sudden we see these black Mercedes drawing up in front. Black uniformed soldiers got out. I don’t think we realised they were Gestapo. They went into a couple of houses, dragged out three Jewish industrialists, left us alone. Then Jewish legislation starts coming in. First thing is Yellow Stars. So we all put on the Yellow Star. More people have to go into forced labour, so my father under fifty, is called up & taken away. We have to move into a certain district & put a big Yellow Star on the entrance to the flat. Then the deportations started. There were attempts made by the Germans to mislead us. We were taken to a place they called kenyérmesö [bread fields]. They organised masses of postcards, always the same text: “We are fine, send you our regards.” No postage stamp. It was childish but people believed it. My father was in this camp. My mother heard it was us next. So she organised a country gentleman to pick us up during the night & take us into hiding in the countryside. This was the end of June. She gave this man a certain amount of money. We were waiting at the gate. We stood & stood, but he didn't come. He kept the money, nice. The next morning the Hungarian gendarmes—it was the gendarmes who did the deportations. The SS were just not visible. The gendarmerie were the country police, dressed very distinctively: cock feathers in their cap, carrying guns and so on. They came for us. And marched us out. The railway station was in a place called Rákospalota, a nice little walk of maybe 5km. We had this audience on either side, having a good time. We get there & there are the wagons. We’ve got numbers, up to 80. My mother ends up, number 80, into the wagon. My sister & I, are out! Into the next wagon. So my mother, I don’t know how, got out. And screams that she’s not going to be separated from her children. And the gendarm rendör [patrolman] hits her with the back of the gun. And she says: 'You can beat me to death, you can shoot me,' nothing doing. She won. So all three of us got into the next wagon. After a few hours, we ended up in a brick factory in Budakalász. There were 25,000 Jews there. A brick factory is an ideal place for this sort of thing, because whilst there is cover. it is also open. So they could supervise us. There was one single SS there. All the others were Hungarian gendarmes. At night, there were lights playing, not to let us sleep. To reduce resistance. We were there for five nights, during the first bombing of Budapest. We loved seeing the bombs. The next morning the wagons were ready, & we’re going to be put into the wagons. But then six names circulated in the camp. Ours is one. So we reported. We spent a day in a central place surrounded by stones, watching people being loaded into wagons. There was another sight: a tanner called Lajos Kaufer. A big strong man but very short-sighted, almost blind. One of the gendarmes pushed him so he turned round. He was shot instantly. There & then. Probably the best thing that happened to him, but a dreadful sight. Anyway. I was never actually frightened. My mother wasn’t frightened either. She had fear. I was very nervous apparently at one point but I had a strange faith – [with emotion] in my mother. That she will look after us. Which she did. All of a sudden a lorry comes. We are told to get in with about sixty people. No gendarmes but an SS. We realise that we are going into town. Next thing we know we arrive at the Jewish Deaf and Dumb Institute. We go into the back entrance and there are hundreds of people there. We get off & they say: 'Congratulations you are here'. Through my mother's connections we were saved. To her dying day, my mother blamed herself for not taking another half-dozen children that were not hers. But who the hell thinks? 959: The Invasion Of Hungary George Donath 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 959: The Invasion Of Hungary ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → George Donath Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from George Donath's interview with Dr Jana Buresova for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2019 • Learn More → George Donath Deported Encounter With Nazi Officials Forced Labour Near Escape Yellow Star Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Hungary See Locations Full Text George Donath, born in Ujpest, Hungary, was 13 on May 18, 1944 when Germany invaded Hungary: The 19th of March was a Sunday. We went to my grandparents for lunch as usual. All of a sudden we see these black Mercedes drawing up in front. Black uniformed soldiers got out. I don’t think we realised they were Gestapo. They went into a couple of houses, dragged out three Jewish industrialists, left us alone. Then Jewish legislation starts coming in. First thing is Yellow Stars. So we all put on the Yellow Star. More people have to go into forced labour, so my father under fifty, is called up & taken away. We have to move into a certain district & put a big Yellow Star on the entrance to the flat. Then the deportations started. There were attempts made by the Germans to mislead us. We were taken to a place they called kenyérmesö [bread fields]. They organised masses of postcards, always the same text: “We are fine, send you our regards.” No postage stamp. It was childish but people believed it. My father was in this camp. My mother heard it was us next. So she organised a country gentleman to pick us up during the night & take us into hiding in the countryside. This was the end of June. She gave this man a certain amount of money. We were waiting at the gate. We stood & stood, but he didn't come. He kept the money, nice. The next morning the Hungarian gendarmes—it was the gendarmes who did the deportations. The SS were just not visible. The gendarmerie were the country police, dressed very distinctively: cock feathers in their cap, carrying guns and so on. They came for us. And marched us out. The railway station was in a place called Rákospalota, a nice little walk of maybe 5km. We had this audience on either side, having a good time. We get there & there are the wagons. We’ve got numbers, up to 80. My mother ends up, number 80, into the wagon. My sister & I, are out! Into the next wagon. So my mother, I don’t know how, got out. And screams that she’s not going to be separated from her children. And the gendarm rendör [patrolman] hits her with the back of the gun. And she says: 'You can beat me to death, you can shoot me,' nothing doing. She won. So all three of us got into the next wagon. After a few hours, we ended up in a brick factory in Budakalász. There were 25,000 Jews there. A brick factory is an ideal place for this sort of thing, because whilst there is cover. it is also open. So they could supervise us. There was one single SS there. All the others were Hungarian gendarmes. At night, there were lights playing, not to let us sleep. To reduce resistance. We were there for five nights, during the first bombing of Budapest. We loved seeing the bombs. The next morning the wagons were ready, & we’re going to be put into the wagons. But then six names circulated in the camp. Ours is one. So we reported. We spent a day in a central place surrounded by stones, watching people being loaded into wagons. There was another sight: a tanner called Lajos Kaufer. A big strong man but very short-sighted, almost blind. One of the gendarmes pushed him so he turned round. He was shot instantly. There & then. Probably the best thing that happened to him, but a dreadful sight. Anyway. I was never actually frightened. My mother wasn’t frightened either. She had fear. I was very nervous apparently at one point but I had a strange faith – [with emotion] in my mother. That she will look after us. Which she did. All of a sudden a lorry comes. We are told to get in with about sixty people. No gendarmes but an SS. We realise that we are going into town. Next thing we know we arrive at the Jewish Deaf and Dumb Institute. We go into the back entrance and there are hundreds of people there. We get off & they say: 'Congratulations you are here'. Through my mother's connections we were saved. To her dying day, my mother blamed herself for not taking another half-dozen children that were not hers. But who the hell thinks? 959: The Invasion Of Hungary George Donath Edited from George Donath's interview with Dr Jana Buresova for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2019 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Resistance 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 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... Read Full Memory 936: Why It's Necessary To Talk & Write Selma van de Perre I didn’t speak at all the first 30 years! To anyone or anything or myself. It was in 1975 with the opening of the Ravensbrück Memorial... Read Full Memory 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... 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 966: I Thought You Were A Nazi Bea Green MBE There were two girls who often turned up with their Hitler Youth uniform. I stayed clear of them. One of them found me after the war... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

Kindertransport Memories 931: Let Down Too Many Times Ruth Barnett MBE My mother appeared out of nowhere. Which was how I experienced it: the grown-ups made arrangements & then I was told... Read Full Memory 941: Sharing The Sandwiches Henry Wuga MBE Ingrid & I got married on December 26 1944. In the middle of the war. We were in love & there was nothing to wait for. We were 20... Read Full Memory 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 969: No One In My Situation Lia Lesser In 1939, my father married again in Prague. His wife was called Ola & she was a seamstress. When she came out of Auschwitz she got in touch... Read Full Memory 976: Coming To England Alone Aged 5 Hannah Wurzburger It's a bottomless pit. So absolutely appalling. Children are so vulnerable. Especially when they're separated from their family... Read Full Memory 977: The Cruel Guardian Maria Ault My first guardians were fine. But when we were evacuated we stayed with a very, very, very, very bad person who used to hit us... Read Full Memory 979: Sitting Through That Bronia Snow My parents always discussed everything. But not a word was spoken about my going to England. So I found myself one fine day... Read Full Memory 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 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 Previous Experience Next Experience

959: The Invasion Of Hungary George Donath Credits & tags Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close George Donath, born in Ujpest, Hungary, was 13 on May 18, 1944 when Germany invaded Hungary: The 19th of March was a Sunday. We went to my grandparents for lunch as usual. All of a sudden we see these black Mercedes drawing up in front. Black uniformed soldiers got out. I don’t think we realised they were Gestapo. They went into a couple of houses, dragged out three Jewish industrialists, left us alone. Then Jewish legislation starts coming in. First thing is Yellow Stars. So we all put on the Yellow Star. More people have to go into forced labour, so my father under fifty, is called up & taken away. We have to move into a certain district & put a big Yellow Star on the entrance to the flat. Then the deportations started. There were attempts made by the Germans to mislead us. We were taken to a place they called kenyérmesö [bread fields]. They organised masses of postcards, always the same text: “We are fine, send you our regards.” No postage stamp. It was childish but people believed it. My father was in this camp. My mother heard it was us next. So she organised a country gentleman to pick us up during the night & take us into hiding in the countryside. This was the end of June. She gave this man a certain amount of money. We were waiting at the gate. We stood & stood, but he didn't come. He kept the money, nice. The next morning the Hungarian gendarmes—it was the gendarmes who did the deportations. The SS were just not visible. The gendarmerie were the country police, dressed very distinctively: cock feathers in their cap, carrying guns and so on. They came for us. And marched us out. The railway station was in a place called Rákospalota, a nice little walk of maybe 5km. We had this audience on either side, having a good time. We get there & there are the wagons. We’ve got numbers, up to 80. My mother ends up, number 80, into the wagon. My sister & I, are out! Into the next wagon. So my mother, I don’t know how, got out. And screams that she’s not going to be separated from her children. And the gendarm rendör [patrolman] hits her with the back of the gun. And she says: 'You can beat me to death, you can shoot me,' nothing doing. She won. So all three of us got into the next wagon. After a few hours, we ended up in a brick factory in Budakalász. There were 25,000 Jews there. A brick factory is an ideal place for this sort of thing, because whilst there is cover. it is also open. So they could supervise us. There was one single SS there. All the others were Hungarian gendarmes. At night, there were lights playing, not to let us sleep. To reduce resistance. We were there for five nights, during the first bombing of Budapest. We loved seeing the bombs. The next morning the wagons were ready, & we’re going to be put into the wagons. But then six names circulated in the camp. Ours is one. So we reported. We spent a day in a central place surrounded by stones, watching people being loaded into wagons. There was another sight: a tanner called Lajos Kaufer. A big strong man but very short-sighted, almost blind. One of the gendarmes pushed him so he turned round. He was shot instantly. There & then. Probably the best thing that happened to him, but a dreadful sight. Anyway. I was never actually frightened. My mother wasn’t frightened either. She had fear. I was very nervous apparently at one point but I had a strange faith – [with emotion] in my mother. That she will look after us. Which she did. All of a sudden a lorry comes. We are told to get in with about sixty people. No gendarmes but an SS. We realise that we are going into town. Next thing we know we arrive at the Jewish Deaf and Dumb Institute. We go into the back entrance and there are hundreds of people there. We get off & they say: 'Congratulations you are here'. Through my mother's connections we were saved. To her dying day, my mother blamed herself for not taking another half-dozen children that were not hers. But who the hell thinks? Previous Memory Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from George Donath's interview with Dr Jana Buresova for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2019 • Learn More → George Donath Deported Encounter With Nazi Officials Forced Labour Near Escape Yellow Star Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Hungary Text adapted & edited by Susanna Kleeman See Locations Facebook & Instagram Posts

March 15 939: Hella Pick CBE arrives in Britain from Vienna on a Kindertransport: I can still see myself arriving at Liverpool Street Station & being picked up. That I can remember. But I can’t remember much about the journey. Just a blank. It’s shocking. It shocks me. But it also saved me from thinking about it too much. I can’t remember my emotions. The only English I knew was ‘Goodbye’ so I said “Goodbye” to the family who picked me up. A very nice house in West Hampstead. They had 3 children. They put me to school in London straight away. I don’t remember much about the school at all. But at the end of the first term, I found a school certificate: I was speaking English, obviously doing all right. But I wasn’t there long because then summer holidays & then off I went to the Lake District to be with my mother. Hella's mother arrived in Britain on a domestic permit in June 1939. Obviously huge relief. I was so lucky. She found a job with the Chorleys who wanted someone who knew how to bake Austrian cakes. Theo Chorley became the last hereditary peer to be created in this country. I’m very, very friendly with all their children. Hella's parents divorced when she was 3. Her father remarried & emigrated to the US. I really hardly ever knew my father. The Board of Deputies for a time, tried to get my father to make some financial contribution.He adamantly refused to get involved. He never wanted to do anything for me. My mother adapted well. She learnt English very rapidly. I have memories of the Lake District partly because there are photographs. I was happy walking & swimming & playing with the other children. Just having a normal child’s life. Then war broke out & the Chorleys had to go back to London. My mother had to find another job. She found this job with a family who were very comfortably off. Had a lovely house. But treated her throughout the war as just their cook. I had to go into the house by the back door. If I wanted to swim in the lake, I had to make sure than nobody else was using the garden or was swimming. This sort of thing. It made it hard for me to bring my school friends. Only the very closest friends could be told the circumstances that I was living in. Which, you know, created—well, I don’t know how much a problem it was. I had two or three very close friends who certainly did come. But it was a curious life for a small child. On the one hand to be going to a school where most of the children came from well-off established families & then going home through their back door. And we were ranked as enemy aliens. For instance, if I had school friends who lived on the other side of Lake Windermere which was in what was then Lancashire. Lancashire was a protected area: it had a prisoner-of-war camp. I—theoretically—had to ask permission from the police to go across the lake. But in fact, what we did was to row across the lake without permission. But things like that for a small child were odd experiences. I went a lot to a lovely village called Grasmere in the Lake District & became friends with one of the Lake artists called Heaton Cooper & his wife, a sculptress. They became my anchor, the absolute firmament in my life. They gave me stability which nothing else gave me. I absolutely refused to speak German. If my mother spoke a word of German on a street I would just scream at her & say, 'Speak English!' Then I had a male teacher I totally fell in love with, at the age of 13. And he said to me, 'German is your mother tongue. You’ve just got to speak German.' He forced me again to confront German. 948: Not Remembering My Emotions Hella Pick CBE 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 948: Not Remembering My Emotions ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Hella Pick CBE Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from Hella Pick CBE's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2019 • Learn More → Hella Pick CBE Domestic Service Helped By Non-Jews Kindertransport Not Remembering Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts England See Locations Full Text March 15 939: Hella Pick CBE arrives in Britain from Vienna on a Kindertransport: I can still see myself arriving at Liverpool Street Station & being picked up. That I can remember. But I can’t remember much about the journey. Just a blank. It’s shocking. It shocks me. But it also saved me from thinking about it too much. I can’t remember my emotions. The only English I knew was ‘Goodbye’ so I said “Goodbye” to the family who picked me up. A very nice house in West Hampstead. They had 3 children. They put me to school in London straight away. I don’t remember much about the school at all. But at the end of the first term, I found a school certificate: I was speaking English, obviously doing all right. But I wasn’t there long because then summer holidays & then off I went to the Lake District to be with my mother. Hella's mother arrived in Britain on a domestic permit in June 1939. Obviously huge relief. I was so lucky. She found a job with the Chorleys who wanted someone who knew how to bake Austrian cakes. Theo Chorley became the last hereditary peer to be created in this country. I’m very, very friendly with all their children. Hella's parents divorced when she was 3. Her father remarried & emigrated to the US. I really hardly ever knew my father. The Board of Deputies for a time, tried to get my father to make some financial contribution.He adamantly refused to get involved. He never wanted to do anything for me. My mother adapted well. She learnt English very rapidly. I have memories of the Lake District partly because there are photographs. I was happy walking & swimming & playing with the other children. Just having a normal child’s life. Then war broke out & the Chorleys had to go back to London. My mother had to find another job. She found this job with a family who were very comfortably off. Had a lovely house. But treated her throughout the war as just their cook. I had to go into the house by the back door. If I wanted to swim in the lake, I had to make sure than nobody else was using the garden or was swimming. This sort of thing. It made it hard for me to bring my school friends. Only the very closest friends could be told the circumstances that I was living in. Which, you know, created—well, I don’t know how much a problem it was. I had two or three very close friends who certainly did come. But it was a curious life for a small child. On the one hand to be going to a school where most of the children came from well-off established families & then going home through their back door. And we were ranked as enemy aliens. For instance, if I had school friends who lived on the other side of Lake Windermere which was in what was then Lancashire. Lancashire was a protected area: it had a prisoner-of-war camp. I—theoretically—had to ask permission from the police to go across the lake. But in fact, what we did was to row across the lake without permission. But things like that for a small child were odd experiences. I went a lot to a lovely village called Grasmere in the Lake District & became friends with one of the Lake artists called Heaton Cooper & his wife, a sculptress. They became my anchor, the absolute firmament in my life. They gave me stability which nothing else gave me. I absolutely refused to speak German. If my mother spoke a word of German on a street I would just scream at her & say, 'Speak English!' Then I had a male teacher I totally fell in love with, at the age of 13. And he said to me, 'German is your mother tongue. You’ve just got to speak German.' He forced me again to confront German. 948: Not Remembering My Emotions Hella Pick CBE Edited from Hella Pick CBE's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2019 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

John Dobai, Budapest: I was born in 1934. Hitler came to power in 1933. My parents thought that by changing their religion, which didn't have much meaning for them anyway, at least it might produce some sort of saving, at least for me. But of course, they were wrong. We started school in 1940. By then Hungary was part of the German invasion of Czechoslovakia. There was very strong antisemitic propaganda. Because my parents & my friends' parents didn't tell us we were Jews, we became antisemitic as well. It seemed the normal thing to do. There were posters on the wall of people with blood dripping from their hands, sitting on bags of money, saying 'Jews are robbing you of your life'. WW2 broke out. A flood of refugees came south through Poland, the Czech Republic, Slovakia & Hungary. These were Orthodox Jews wearing tall hats, with the ringlets & beards & long black coats, various things round their waist. Hungarian Jews did their best to help. But at the same time said: 'This is never going to happen to us; we're Hungarians who happen to be Jewish. We've done military service We've contributed to the country. Nobody's going to harm us'. In 1941, Hungary followed Germany in declaring war on the Soviet Union. My father was called up as an officer. Off he went to war. But two months later the Hungarian parliament passed the Second Jewish Law which declared that people who are declared to be Jews, cannot be officers in the Hungarian Army. So he was dismissed & came home. My parents couldn't bring themselves to explain it to me. They said: 'This is another part of the Army service where they don’t wear a uniform'. We didn't have any money. Rich people could buy exit visas & so forth. We didn't have that. My father said, “We just have to do our best to live through this.' A couple of months later, he was sent off to a labour camp in northeast Hungary—a place called Munkacs. March 1944: the German Army enters Hungary. It was a school holiday around that time. A few days after I met a classmate & said 'I'm looking forward to going back to school'. He said he was going to go back to school but not me: his father told him I'm a dirty stinking Jew. Although I was ten, I started to cry. I rushed back to my mother. That was when she told me that we, in fact, come from a Jewish family. A few days later there came out vast posters, detailing the anti-Jewish legislation. You had to hand in your bank accounts, your precious stones, any gold, hand over motor cars, cameras, radios, carpets—anything of value. Of course, we couldn't go to school. The Royal Air Force had to bomb Budapest. The Germans put an anti-aircraft battery near the house, so it was very frightening. I was totally devastated, because the antisemitic propaganda was so strong, that I felt totally degraded. That I was somehow… dirty. You know. That I was covered in dirt. That I was dishonest. That I was rude & that I didn't behave properly to my friends. In every way, I was declared to be rubbish. It was a huge blow. And... you know, to have to walk with this yellow star. We were not allowed to share the pavement with non-Jews. If you have this star on, you have to get into the gutter, because you are not allowed to walk with non-Jews on the same pavement. So, this was all very, very degrading. Three weeks later, we were told to leave our flat taking only what we could carry & move into a villa with 12 parents & 12 children. We were fortunate; it was a detached villa with a garden. So we the children could play. Although we could not play near the front garden, because people would throw stones at us or spit. So, we tended to play in the back. The parents organised lessons for the children, & games to try & live a normal sort of life. For a short while. 958: Discovering I Was Jewish John Dobai 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 958: Discovering I Was Jewish ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → John Dobai Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from John Dobai's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, June 2017 • Learn More → John Dobai Asked To Leave School Attempted Humiliation Converted To Christianity Dismissed From Job Finding Out Forced Labour Yellow Star Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Hungary See Locations Full Text John Dobai, Budapest: I was born in 1934. Hitler came to power in 1933. My parents thought that by changing their religion, which didn't have much meaning for them anyway, at least it might produce some sort of saving, at least for me. But of course, they were wrong. We started school in 1940. By then Hungary was part of the German invasion of Czechoslovakia. There was very strong antisemitic propaganda. Because my parents & my friends' parents didn't tell us we were Jews, we became antisemitic as well. It seemed the normal thing to do. There were posters on the wall of people with blood dripping from their hands, sitting on bags of money, saying 'Jews are robbing you of your life'. WW2 broke out. A flood of refugees came south through Poland, the Czech Republic, Slovakia & Hungary. These were Orthodox Jews wearing tall hats, with the ringlets & beards & long black coats, various things round their waist. Hungarian Jews did their best to help. But at the same time said: 'This is never going to happen to us; we're Hungarians who happen to be Jewish. We've done military service We've contributed to the country. Nobody's going to harm us'. In 1941, Hungary followed Germany in declaring war on the Soviet Union. My father was called up as an officer. Off he went to war. But two months later the Hungarian parliament passed the Second Jewish Law which declared that people who are declared to be Jews, cannot be officers in the Hungarian Army. So he was dismissed & came home. My parents couldn't bring themselves to explain it to me. They said: 'This is another part of the Army service where they don’t wear a uniform'. We didn't have any money. Rich people could buy exit visas & so forth. We didn't have that. My father said, “We just have to do our best to live through this.' A couple of months later, he was sent off to a labour camp in northeast Hungary—a place called Munkacs. March 1944: the German Army enters Hungary. It was a school holiday around that time. A few days after I met a classmate & said 'I'm looking forward to going back to school'. He said he was going to go back to school but not me: his father told him I'm a dirty stinking Jew. Although I was ten, I started to cry. I rushed back to my mother. That was when she told me that we, in fact, come from a Jewish family. A few days later there came out vast posters, detailing the anti-Jewish legislation. You had to hand in your bank accounts, your precious stones, any gold, hand over motor cars, cameras, radios, carpets—anything of value. Of course, we couldn't go to school. The Royal Air Force had to bomb Budapest. The Germans put an anti-aircraft battery near the house, so it was very frightening. I was totally devastated, because the antisemitic propaganda was so strong, that I felt totally degraded. That I was somehow… dirty. You know. That I was covered in dirt. That I was dishonest. That I was rude & that I didn't behave properly to my friends. In every way, I was declared to be rubbish. It was a huge blow. And... you know, to have to walk with this yellow star. We were not allowed to share the pavement with non-Jews. If you have this star on, you have to get into the gutter, because you are not allowed to walk with non-Jews on the same pavement. So, this was all very, very degrading. Three weeks later, we were told to leave our flat taking only what we could carry & move into a villa with 12 parents & 12 children. We were fortunate; it was a detached villa with a garden. So we the children could play. Although we could not play near the front garden, because people would throw stones at us or spit. So, we tended to play in the back. The parents organised lessons for the children, & games to try & live a normal sort of life. For a short while. 958: Discovering I Was Jewish John Dobai Edited from John Dobai's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, June 2017 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

974: How To Recover Ribbingelund, Sweden, 1945: Susan Pollack OBE, aged 15, recuperates after liberation from Bergen-Belsen: Susan Pollack OBE 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 Susan Pollack OBE's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, October 2023 • Learn More → Susan Pollack OBE Close Family Murdered Concentration Camp Recovery Swedish Recuperation Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Canada See Locations Full Text Ribbingelund, Sweden, 1945: Susan Pollack OBE, aged 15, recuperates after liberation from Bergen-Belsen: It took a long time for me to strengthen my own needs. I made a friend & she made a very big, deep impression on me. A shared nightmare. Friendship, trust, sharing, being understood. But then she left, she met someone. I forget exactly the reason why she left quite soon. I missed her terribly. I still think about her. I never befriended the other survivors that much. They were older & more angry. We had felt vulnerable. I lost my youth. My treatment was based on just walking, slow walking. Being fed with good food, listening to music every night, gentle. That’s what I enjoyed very much, a peaceable existence. An existence where I could walk on my own if I chose to do so. Being understood, how lovely. How lovely when you’ve got a home & you’re being loved & considered & you mattered. What a great feeling. And of course, I didn’t have anyone. Susan & her brother Laci were the only members of their 50-strong extended family to survive the Holocaust I often repeat it now in my quiet times, the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He raised me down in still waters. Who will ascend to the mountain of righteousness? Only those with clean hands and a pure heart. I repeat it to myself in my little prayer. My brother told me not to come home. I learned of his survival when I was in Sweden. He informed me, ‘Don’t come back to Hungary’, so where could I go? I’m just on my own. That oneness, aloneness. Then going to Canada, somehow it emerged. We were told that we could go to Canada. I didn’t know where it is located, what it is. That aloneness was a driving force, aloneness. The realisation, where do I belong? Where do I belong? So they took me to Canada & that’s where I met my husband-to-be. We were taken to Toronto. For three weeks we stayed in this home together. Then placed individually with people, with families. I was placed with a Jewish family. I became a kind of a Communist, because they were Communist & the Communists were very friendly. There was a son & a daughter, who wasn’t very friendly to me. I felt the loneliness there very much. Then, it was a problem, going occasionally to these meetings with the Communists could present a huge problem, living in Canada. So, we cut that off. Then I met my husband-to-be. They found a job for me. I had no education, nothing. Nobody suggested, ‘Ah, you could learn to speak English in the evening classes’ or whatever. No, nothing. The factory was miserable time in my life. I couldn’t use the electric sewing machine. I was the only girl who couldn’t speak a word of English. Other people formed themselves in a group. And laughing. ‘Oh’, you know, ‘she’s…’ That went on for a while, being on my own & excluded. No understanding of where I'd come from. I learned my English actually, by listening to people. The daughter of the boss said, ‘Can I come & visit you?’ I said ‘Please do.’ I didn’t have any money to buy food, but that’s by the way. Then she cancelled. I can’t tell you how unhappy I became, having been—you know, she’s the boss’s daughter. Then, she cancelled it. I felt very shameful. It was difficult, it was difficult because we felt, like you say, we were the others. I met my husband. Hungarian, a few years older than me. Same experience. He had a terrible time, it’s surprising he managed to survive. He was working on railways & many of them died. He became very aware of his—missed—necessity of living in a modern world. He was a good listener. He was fun, liked dancing. We understood each other's tough times. It helped me, it gave me strength, the driving force. ‘Do you want a ring?’, he said. ‘No’, I said, ‘it has no practical purpose, a ring. I need a watch, if anything.’ So, I got a watch. 974: How To Recover Susan Pollack OBE Edited from Susan Pollack OBE's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, October 2023 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Izak Wiesenfeld Read full biography at The AJR / Refugee Voices Testimony Archive Memories 975: Life In A Siberian Labour Camp Izak Wiesenfeld We were taken by lorries into the forest, to a huge barrack. The first speech: “You will never get out of here, here you will die..." Read Full Memory Previous Person Next Person

Ida Skubiejska Read full biography at The AJR / Refugee Voices Testimony Archive Memories 968: How To Talk Without Crying Ida Skubiejska Everybody was killed in Auschwitz: my parents, my sister, all my uncles, aunts & cousins. Absolutely everybody except my other sister & my cousin... Read Full Memory Previous Person Next Person