Never Finding Out 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 971: Equalising What Happened Dr Charlotte Feldman They used to demonstrate in the street below us. They used to shout, ‘Jews to Palestine!’ I had a very happy childhood... Read Full Memory 973: The Puzzle & The Blanks Jacques Weisser BEM I should've delved more into it, asking questions. But most of the time after the war I wasn't with my father... Read Full Memory 987: Father's Deportation Betty Bloom Unfortunately, at 6am, there was a knock on the door & two Gestapo officers marched in & arrested my father... Read Full Memory 997: My Mother & Father Trude Silman MBE My mother is a question mark. I know she survived ‘til 1944 because we used to get the odd occasional 25-word Red Cross letter, but then it stopped... Read Full Memory 1000: Idzia Mala Tribich MBE Rumours started circulating that there's going to be a deportation. So people were in panic, trying to find ways of saving themselves... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

Trude Silman MBE, Bratislava, wartime: My mother is a question mark. I know she survived ‘til 1944 because we used to get the odd occasional 25-word Red Cross letter, but then it stopped. I really don’t know exactly what happened to her. Initially she was in Bratislava. I’m given to understand she worked as a nurse in the Jewish hospital. Eventually she must have moved out of there & gone further East when there was the Slovak uprising. As far as we can gather, but we have no proof, she went out one day & never came back. They assumed she was one of the people who was picked up & shot. But we have no clear evidence as to what actually happened to her, we believe she was sheltered by a Roman Catholic priest, & we actually had some proof of this, because, after the war, the priest’s housekeeper somehow or other sent us a letter telling us about some possessions of my mothers, which they were placing with another aunt. But we’ve lost the letter so we’ve no idea what, where & how. I’ve never been able to trace it. If you don’t know the place, if you don’t know the name, if you haven’t the time, if you don’t speak the language, it is not easy to do. So we hope that possibly still some literature will come up from somewhere. The Red Cross haven’t been able to trace her & there’s no record. She seemed to lead the sort of life that most of her sisters lived. They did their basic cooking, they did their shopping, they met in the coffee house to talk, they went to each others’ houses & that was basically it. But my mother was a very early riser. She used to go & do the market shopping very early in the morning, about five in the morning when the market started, I remember that. She was a fabulous cook, & unfortunately I never picked it up, because I was too young at that age to learn about those sorts of things. It's a tragedy, a real tragedy, what happened to my parents. I only found out relatively recently that my aunt & uncle managed to get them a post as housekeepers, domestics. My father was already well in his 50s, & he decided he was too old to make that sort of a commitment & he didn’t think that the Holocaust would arrive, he didn’t think it was going to be what it was going to be. So my parents didn’t come out. I only discovered this when I found a document from one of the refugee committees. There was a little ‘D’ against my parents' name that indicated that they were granted a domestic permit. They never took it up. So that was that, I only discovered that relatively recently. In 1939 Trude came to the UK with her aunt. Her brother & sister were already there. Up to about 1941 were letters written on what I would call toilet paper & my father did most of the writing, used to be a little sheet of paper & if it came to me I would pass it to my sister, & she would pass it onto my brother, so we used to circulate our letters. That’s why some of them have gone astray, because my brother destroyed all of his stuff, he couldn’t bear it. So we lost a lot. Then the letters stopped. My father was transported to Auschwitz on the 19th of April, 1942. The death certificate said the 8th of May. So he survived 3 weeks in Auschwitz, which doesn’t surprise me, because when he was transported he had actually injured his leg, & my cousin who saw him off said he was limping when he went on the transport. You know, you were expecting to see your parents very soon. There wasn’t a day, every single night I used to pray they’re all right, & that they’ll be safe, & I’ll see them soon, this went on for years & years & years. But again the emotion has gone out of this as the years have come on, that goes, you only remember the nice things. 997: My Mother & Father Trude Silman MBE Credits & tags Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Previous Memory Next Memory ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Previous Memory Next Memory 997: My Mother & Father ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Trude Silman MBE Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Trude Silman MBE's interview with Dr Rosalyn Livshin for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, November 2003 • Learn More → Trude Silman MBE Close Family Murdered Finding Out Never Finding Out Red Cross Letters Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Czechoslovakia See Locations Full Text Trude Silman MBE, Bratislava, wartime: My mother is a question mark. I know she survived ‘til 1944 because we used to get the odd occasional 25-word Red Cross letter, but then it stopped. I really don’t know exactly what happened to her. Initially she was in Bratislava. I’m given to understand she worked as a nurse in the Jewish hospital. Eventually she must have moved out of there & gone further East when there was the Slovak uprising. As far as we can gather, but we have no proof, she went out one day & never came back. They assumed she was one of the people who was picked up & shot. But we have no clear evidence as to what actually happened to her, we believe she was sheltered by a Roman Catholic priest, & we actually had some proof of this, because, after the war, the priest’s housekeeper somehow or other sent us a letter telling us about some possessions of my mothers, which they were placing with another aunt. But we’ve lost the letter so we’ve no idea what, where & how. I’ve never been able to trace it. If you don’t know the place, if you don’t know the name, if you haven’t the time, if you don’t speak the language, it is not easy to do. So we hope that possibly still some literature will come up from somewhere. The Red Cross haven’t been able to trace her & there’s no record. She seemed to lead the sort of life that most of her sisters lived. They did their basic cooking, they did their shopping, they met in the coffee house to talk, they went to each others’ houses & that was basically it. But my mother was a very early riser. She used to go & do the market shopping very early in the morning, about five in the morning when the market started, I remember that. She was a fabulous cook, & unfortunately I never picked it up, because I was too young at that age to learn about those sorts of things. It's a tragedy, a real tragedy, what happened to my parents. I only found out relatively recently that my aunt & uncle managed to get them a post as housekeepers, domestics. My father was already well in his 50s, & he decided he was too old to make that sort of a commitment & he didn’t think that the Holocaust would arrive, he didn’t think it was going to be what it was going to be. So my parents didn’t come out. I only discovered this when I found a document from one of the refugee committees. There was a little ‘D’ against my parents' name that indicated that they were granted a domestic permit. They never took it up. So that was that, I only discovered that relatively recently. In 1939 Trude came to the UK with her aunt. Her brother & sister were already there. Up to about 1941 were letters written on what I would call toilet paper & my father did most of the writing, used to be a little sheet of paper & if it came to me I would pass it to my sister, & she would pass it onto my brother, so we used to circulate our letters. That’s why some of them have gone astray, because my brother destroyed all of his stuff, he couldn’t bear it. So we lost a lot. Then the letters stopped. My father was transported to Auschwitz on the 19th of April, 1942. The death certificate said the 8th of May. So he survived 3 weeks in Auschwitz, which doesn’t surprise me, because when he was transported he had actually injured his leg, & my cousin who saw him off said he was limping when he went on the transport. You know, you were expecting to see your parents very soon. There wasn’t a day, every single night I used to pray they’re all right, & that they’ll be safe, & I’ll see them soon, this went on for years & years & years. But again the emotion has gone out of this as the years have come on, that goes, you only remember the nice things. 997: My Mother & Father Trude Silman MBE Adapted from Trude Silman MBE's interview with Dr Rosalyn Livshin for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, November 2003 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Berlin, October 28, 1938: Betty Bloom's father Joseph Schütz is deported back to Poland as part of the Polenaktion: Unfortunately, at 6am, there was a knock on the door & two Gestapo officers marched in & arrested my father. He didn't even have time to say goodbye to us. They took him down the stairs. He was on the first transport of Polish Jews to—you know—deported from Berlin to a place on the Polish border. The Poles wouldn't let him in. They were left there in October without any clothes, without anything, without any heating, for months. They couldn't go back; they couldn't go forward until the Poles eventually relented & let them into Poland. My father made contact with his family. In Poland he went first to stay with his mother in a place called Nowy Sącz, not far from Jaslo near the Czech border. I don't know how long he was there for. We had one or two calls from him. I had a cousin left in Berlin who sent parcels to my father because she was in hiding but she managed to send parcels to my father which I've never forgotten. I know he ended up in Buchenwald eventually because a survivor from Buchenwald made contact with my mother & came & told her that he was with him in Buchenwald in '44. At the end of '44, beginning '45. I assume he was in the death march from Buchenwald to Bergen-Belsen. 15 years ago my husband & I went to Auschwitz. We searched the records in Auschwitz but found no record of my father. I don't know the exact date that the Red Cross contacted us & informed us that the last record they have of my father is in Bergen-Belsen in January 1945, which to us was the worst news we could have had. Because to survive from '38 to '45 & then to die like this. Now after these deportations to Poland was the Kristallnacht because one of the people whose parents were deported—you probably know his name, a young man, Grynszpan. He was so angry that he killed a German in Paris which gave the Nazis the excuse for for Kristallnacht. Following Kristallnacht, I was very aware of what's going on because even at 7 or 8, at the end of our road, there was a display panel for Der Stürmer—the Nazi magazine. I read it. I read anything I could read. They made, there was a sign on our shop saying "Kauft nicht bei Juden", don't buy from Jews, even before my father was deported. So, I was well aware of what was going on. So then my mother's brother was sending his children to England, on the Kindertransport. And my older sister Ruth started to say we must do the same. 987: Father's Deportation Betty Bloom 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 987: Father's Deportation ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Betty Bloom Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Betty Bloom's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2020 • Learn More → Betty Bloom Close Family Murdered Encounter With Nazi Officials Never Finding Out Polenaktion Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Germany See Locations Full Text Berlin, October 28, 1938: Betty Bloom's father Joseph Schütz is deported back to Poland as part of the Polenaktion: Unfortunately, at 6am, there was a knock on the door & two Gestapo officers marched in & arrested my father. He didn't even have time to say goodbye to us. They took him down the stairs. He was on the first transport of Polish Jews to—you know—deported from Berlin to a place on the Polish border. The Poles wouldn't let him in. They were left there in October without any clothes, without anything, without any heating, for months. They couldn't go back; they couldn't go forward until the Poles eventually relented & let them into Poland. My father made contact with his family. In Poland he went first to stay with his mother in a place called Nowy Sącz, not far from Jaslo near the Czech border. I don't know how long he was there for. We had one or two calls from him. I had a cousin left in Berlin who sent parcels to my father because she was in hiding but she managed to send parcels to my father which I've never forgotten. I know he ended up in Buchenwald eventually because a survivor from Buchenwald made contact with my mother & came & told her that he was with him in Buchenwald in '44. At the end of '44, beginning '45. I assume he was in the death march from Buchenwald to Bergen-Belsen. 15 years ago my husband & I went to Auschwitz. We searched the records in Auschwitz but found no record of my father. I don't know the exact date that the Red Cross contacted us & informed us that the last record they have of my father is in Bergen-Belsen in January 1945, which to us was the worst news we could have had. Because to survive from '38 to '45 & then to die like this. Now after these deportations to Poland was the Kristallnacht because one of the people whose parents were deported—you probably know his name, a young man, Grynszpan. He was so angry that he killed a German in Paris which gave the Nazis the excuse for for Kristallnacht. Following Kristallnacht, I was very aware of what's going on because even at 7 or 8, at the end of our road, there was a display panel for Der Stürmer—the Nazi magazine. I read it. I read anything I could read. They made, there was a sign on our shop saying "Kauft nicht bei Juden", don't buy from Jews, even before my father was deported. So, I was well aware of what was going on. So then my mother's brother was sending his children to England, on the Kindertransport. And my older sister Ruth started to say we must do the same. 987: Father's Deportation Betty Bloom Adapted from Betty Bloom's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2020 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

Ruth Jackson, Eberswalde, early 1930s: One thing stands out in my mind. I went shopping with my mother & saw a man in front of me with a swastika burnt into his skull. It made a terrible impression on me & I asked my mother why had he done that, it seemed a bit stupid. She said he had been in a sort of prison, that he didn’t very much like the Nazis & he’d spoken against them & he was taken into a prison & they put it in there so that he would always remember that. That made a big impression on me. In early 1933, Hitler came to Eberswalde as he toured Germany. All our windows faced the square so we saw all these people gathering, thousands of people, marching, singing, swastika flags flying, & a podium was set up for Hitler. There was a knock at the door, my father was in Berlin. My mother opened the door & I heard her arguing with a man. In the end she let him in. We were forced to put a swastika flag out of our windows, which of course my mother didn’t want to do. She hung the banner right below, as low as she could get below our window sill. I thought she would fall out. I was hanging onto her skirts. We were told that if we didn’t it would be so noticeable: Hitler would be facing our windows. We put the wooden blinds down but you could still hear him shrieking & shouting. But we couldn’t see him—or I could through the slits of the blinds. When they all went we were able to breathe again, but my parents decided it was best to move back to Berlin. Because you are not so noticeable in a crowd as you are in a small town. In Berlin we lived near the Reichskanzlerplatz, which was duly changed to Adolf Hitler Platz. I was 7. I made friends, the teacher seemed to like me, I got on quite well, until one day my mother was asked to come to the school. I was given a note for her. I was afraid, wondered what I had done wrong, nobody said anything, I was just asked to give her this letter. Well, the letter was for her to come to the school, which she did. She told me I wasn’t going to go back to that school because the other parents objected to their children being in a class with a Jewish child. So that was the end of that school. The second time I had to move. Luckily enough for me, a new school was being built, a Jewish school called Theodor-Herzl-Schule, at the top of the avenue that we lived in. I had to go by tram but that was all part of the fun of it; I made lots of friends. Suddenly I didn’t have to worry about being Jewish because we were all Jewish. We couldn’t go to cinemas, swimming pools, but somehow as a child you to take it all in your stride, it didn’t seem to worry me terribly because I’d got my friends. Then we had to move again. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. You’d find a flat & people would say ‘Are you Jewish?’ We’d say, yes, & they’d say, ‘We don’t want you’. Finally we did find a flat a bit nearer school. There were other children nearby & I was able to befriend them. You didn’t go out to play, you played in each other’s homes. Somehow we just accepted that. We weren’t welcomed in restaurants. No ice-cream parlours any more. I don’t think I looked particularly Jewish & certainly my mother wasn’t Jewish. But we weren’t going to take the risk. Shops would say ‘Jews not welcome’. But the worst thing that happened was this: my mother wasn't Jewish, all her family weren’t Jewish. We used to visit them quite happily, they had children, my mother’s cousins had children who were nearer my age than my own brother & sister. So I used to enjoy going there. One day, we went to this one aunt called Ella. She always made us very welcome but on this occasion she furtively looked round the door to see that nobody had seen us come. Almost pulled us into the flat, I was shooed into the other room to play with my cousin. My mother & my aunt went into the kitchen & chatted, & they were out very quickly, normally they’d stay in there for ages & talk & we’d play. The first thing I noticed in the sitting room was that there was a big picture of Hitler on the wall where the mirror used to be. My cousin said to me ‘why are you looking at that, haven’t you got a picture of Hitler?’ I said, no, no, & what happened to the mirror? Oh, we took that down, this is much more important. I was nearly going to say something when my mother said ‘we’ve got to go. I forgot.' I thought it was a bit strange but I went. And my mother said, I’m afraid we can’t go there any more. They’re going to be in trouble if Jews come into the flat, or meet us anywhere, my uncle would be out of a job, the children at school had been told to spy on their parents. It just wasn’t safe for them. So that was that. So we didn’t see any of my mother’s relations any more. 993: Jews Not Welcome Ruth Jackson 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 993: Jews Not Welcome ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Ruth Jackson Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Adapted from Ruth Jackson's interview with Helen Lloyd for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, August 2004 • Learn More → Ruth Jackson Asked To Leave School Betrayed Encounter With Hitler Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Germany See Locations Full Text Ruth Jackson, Eberswalde, early 1930s: One thing stands out in my mind. I went shopping with my mother & saw a man in front of me with a swastika burnt into his skull. It made a terrible impression on me & I asked my mother why had he done that, it seemed a bit stupid. She said he had been in a sort of prison, that he didn’t very much like the Nazis & he’d spoken against them & he was taken into a prison & they put it in there so that he would always remember that. That made a big impression on me. In early 1933, Hitler came to Eberswalde as he toured Germany. All our windows faced the square so we saw all these people gathering, thousands of people, marching, singing, swastika flags flying, & a podium was set up for Hitler. There was a knock at the door, my father was in Berlin. My mother opened the door & I heard her arguing with a man. In the end she let him in. We were forced to put a swastika flag out of our windows, which of course my mother didn’t want to do. She hung the banner right below, as low as she could get below our window sill. I thought she would fall out. I was hanging onto her skirts. We were told that if we didn’t it would be so noticeable: Hitler would be facing our windows. We put the wooden blinds down but you could still hear him shrieking & shouting. But we couldn’t see him—or I could through the slits of the blinds. When they all went we were able to breathe again, but my parents decided it was best to move back to Berlin. Because you are not so noticeable in a crowd as you are in a small town. In Berlin we lived near the Reichskanzlerplatz, which was duly changed to Adolf Hitler Platz. I was 7. I made friends, the teacher seemed to like me, I got on quite well, until one day my mother was asked to come to the school. I was given a note for her. I was afraid, wondered what I had done wrong, nobody said anything, I was just asked to give her this letter. Well, the letter was for her to come to the school, which she did. She told me I wasn’t going to go back to that school because the other parents objected to their children being in a class with a Jewish child. So that was the end of that school. The second time I had to move. Luckily enough for me, a new school was being built, a Jewish school called Theodor-Herzl-Schule, at the top of the avenue that we lived in. I had to go by tram but that was all part of the fun of it; I made lots of friends. Suddenly I didn’t have to worry about being Jewish because we were all Jewish. We couldn’t go to cinemas, swimming pools, but somehow as a child you to take it all in your stride, it didn’t seem to worry me terribly because I’d got my friends. Then we had to move again. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. You’d find a flat & people would say ‘Are you Jewish?’ We’d say, yes, & they’d say, ‘We don’t want you’. Finally we did find a flat a bit nearer school. There were other children nearby & I was able to befriend them. You didn’t go out to play, you played in each other’s homes. Somehow we just accepted that. We weren’t welcomed in restaurants. No ice-cream parlours any more. I don’t think I looked particularly Jewish & certainly my mother wasn’t Jewish. But we weren’t going to take the risk. Shops would say ‘Jews not welcome’. But the worst thing that happened was this: my mother wasn't Jewish, all her family weren’t Jewish. We used to visit them quite happily, they had children, my mother’s cousins had children who were nearer my age than my own brother & sister. So I used to enjoy going there. One day, we went to this one aunt called Ella. She always made us very welcome but on this occasion she furtively looked round the door to see that nobody had seen us come. Almost pulled us into the flat, I was shooed into the other room to play with my cousin. My mother & my aunt went into the kitchen & chatted, & they were out very quickly, normally they’d stay in there for ages & talk & we’d play. The first thing I noticed in the sitting room was that there was a big picture of Hitler on the wall where the mirror used to be. My cousin said to me ‘why are you looking at that, haven’t you got a picture of Hitler?’ I said, no, no, & what happened to the mirror? Oh, we took that down, this is much more important. I was nearly going to say something when my mother said ‘we’ve got to go. I forgot.' I thought it was a bit strange but I went. And my mother said, I’m afraid we can’t go there any more. They’re going to be in trouble if Jews come into the flat, or meet us anywhere, my uncle would be out of a job, the children at school had been told to spy on their parents. It just wasn’t safe for them. So that was that. So we didn’t see any of my mother’s relations any more. 993: Jews Not Welcome Ruth Jackson Adapted from Ruth Jackson's interview with Helen Lloyd for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, August 2004 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

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

Helped By Non-Jews 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 944: Cat Piddle In My Beer Rudolph Sabor It strengthened my belief: this cannot be forever. A cultured people like the Germans, would wake up any day. Total delusion... 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 955: 28 People Hiding In The Loft Rivka Reich We thought going to Auschwitz would be just hard labour. But my father was different. He thought we must escape... Read Full Memory 962: Speaking German With An English Accent Charles Danson I'd been the wireless operator for quite some time, so I said to my comrade ‘Let’s change over now’... 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 981: 4th of the 4th, 1944 Jack Cynamon My first recollection is aeroplanes in the sky in Brussels. One morning the sky was full of aeroplanes. There must have been 60... Read Full Memory 985: Black Heart Outside The Flat Miriam Freedman It's difficult. Children feel very protected. Everything goes well. Then all of a sudden you see terrible things, like people disappearing... Read Full Memory 986: The End of Łódź Ghetto Helen Aronson BEM In 1944, the ghetto was closed, everybody sent to camps. But the Germans decided: there's still some money to be made... Read Full Memory 996: How To Hide In Berlin Hans Danziger My father had nerves of steel. Before the war, Jews were obliged to put ‘Israel’ in front of their names. My father refused... Read Full Memory 999: The Caretaker & His Daughter Miriam Freedman At night time, the caretaker used to bring us food. We sat there, never able to talk, no toys or books or anything. Things becoming all the time worse... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

Benno Stern: My father, by a great stroke of fortune, was made stateless by Poland because he’d fled the country. In Germany, he was stateless; he never took German citizenship. When Germany sent Polish Jews back to Poland he was not sent back, because he was stateless. In England, my father wasn't interned in the Isle of Wight because he was stateless. It worked to our advantage. My father came to England with my sister & myself after Kristallnacht. My mother stayed on in Essen for a week. Why, I’ve never really been able to fathom. They thought it was safer to travel separately rather than together. She stayed on for a week. The tragedy of that particular case was firstly, the Gestapo came for my father. He wasn’t there. They said, 'Where is he?' She said, 'He’s gone to Berlin to get visas. He won’t be back till Monday.” They said, 'If he’s not back Monday, we’ll take you instead.' She'd had the forethought to throw her passport out of the window into the courtyard. They searched for the passport & said, 'Have you got a passport?' She said, 'No'. After they went she closed the flat up & left in the clothes she was wearing. Stayed with friends & then came on. The other tragedy was: when he got to England, my father telephoned my mother's mother who was living in France to say that he & the children had arrived safely. So my grandmother said, 'Where’s Esther?' He said, 'She’s on her way. She’s OK.' Her mother said, 'No I don’t believe you. You never would have left Germany without Esther.' And she had a stroke while he was on the phone to her, & she never spoke again after that. She died a little while later. Funny what you remember as a child. Our local rabbi in London came to see my mother & broke the news to her. I can remember my mother crying. Sad days. A tragedy. But my mother did arrive. She had quite a horrendous journey in the train. She only had 10 marks, nothing else. At the border the police collected all the passports & didn’t return them until the very last moment. People were shouting & screaming: 'Where are our passports?' In the end, they threw all the passports through the open train window. People were treated very badly. They took her money; she arrived penniless. But she didn’t have much anyway. I remember our journey. We left Hachestraße at dawn. Light was just breaking. I had a particular comforter blanket. The station was immediately opposite our flat so we had a very short walk. The train journey is vague but I remember the ferry. I was one of the few people who was not sick. The sea was rough and I saw everyone else being sick. We then arrived by car to Ealing, in the evening. I remember lights. My uncle had a huge dog which I now know was a border collie. I was so frightened of this dog, whose name was Dinkie. I was so scared. I could only speak German. They offered me some lemonade which I’d never seen before. Coloured lemon lemonade. That was what I remember. 946: Being Stateless Is An Advantage Benno Stern 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 946: Being Stateless Is An Advantage ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Benno Stern Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from Benno Stern's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, June 2016 • Learn More → Benno Stern Encounter With Nazi Officials Hiding Valuables Nerves of Steel Polenaktion Reunited Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Germany See Locations Full Text Benno Stern: My father, by a great stroke of fortune, was made stateless by Poland because he’d fled the country. In Germany, he was stateless; he never took German citizenship. When Germany sent Polish Jews back to Poland he was not sent back, because he was stateless. In England, my father wasn't interned in the Isle of Wight because he was stateless. It worked to our advantage. My father came to England with my sister & myself after Kristallnacht. My mother stayed on in Essen for a week. Why, I’ve never really been able to fathom. They thought it was safer to travel separately rather than together. She stayed on for a week. The tragedy of that particular case was firstly, the Gestapo came for my father. He wasn’t there. They said, 'Where is he?' She said, 'He’s gone to Berlin to get visas. He won’t be back till Monday.” They said, 'If he’s not back Monday, we’ll take you instead.' She'd had the forethought to throw her passport out of the window into the courtyard. They searched for the passport & said, 'Have you got a passport?' She said, 'No'. After they went she closed the flat up & left in the clothes she was wearing. Stayed with friends & then came on. The other tragedy was: when he got to England, my father telephoned my mother's mother who was living in France to say that he & the children had arrived safely. So my grandmother said, 'Where’s Esther?' He said, 'She’s on her way. She’s OK.' Her mother said, 'No I don’t believe you. You never would have left Germany without Esther.' And she had a stroke while he was on the phone to her, & she never spoke again after that. She died a little while later. Funny what you remember as a child. Our local rabbi in London came to see my mother & broke the news to her. I can remember my mother crying. Sad days. A tragedy. But my mother did arrive. She had quite a horrendous journey in the train. She only had 10 marks, nothing else. At the border the police collected all the passports & didn’t return them until the very last moment. People were shouting & screaming: 'Where are our passports?' In the end, they threw all the passports through the open train window. People were treated very badly. They took her money; she arrived penniless. But she didn’t have much anyway. I remember our journey. We left Hachestraße at dawn. Light was just breaking. I had a particular comforter blanket. The station was immediately opposite our flat so we had a very short walk. The train journey is vague but I remember the ferry. I was one of the few people who was not sick. The sea was rough and I saw everyone else being sick. We then arrived by car to Ealing, in the evening. I remember lights. My uncle had a huge dog which I now know was a border collie. I was so frightened of this dog, whose name was Dinkie. I was so scared. I could only speak German. They offered me some lemonade which I’d never seen before. Coloured lemon lemonade. That was what I remember. 946: Being Stateless Is An Advantage Benno Stern Edited from Benno Stern's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, June 2016 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts

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 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 974: How To Recover ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Susan Pollack OBE Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close 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

Not Allowed To Use Swimming Pools Memories 963: Experiencing Antisemitism Stella Shinder I had a little umbrella with red stripes. A little schoolmate of mine said, 'Is that the blood of German babies that the Jews are killing?' Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

Soviet Union Novosibirsk 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..." Previous Location Next Location

Emigration To Shanghai Memories 934: The Safest Place For Jews On Earth Kurt Wick Unfortunately, quite a few Jewish leaders said, ‘It's not a good country for you. Lots of crime, lots of opium, drugs, criminality... Read Full Memory Previous Experience Next Experience

March 12, 1938: Germany invades Austria. Fred Barschak was 7. Lorries with Nazis shouting & screaming. Windows smashed. On Saturday a completely different scene: elderly Jews scrubbing the pavements & marvellous shouts of ‘At last, Hitler’s found work for the Jews!" The first change was: we were thrown out of school a month & a half later. Instead we went to these…to some other schools organised by the Kultusgemeinde. You learnt English or French or Hebrew, depending where you thought you were going to. There was a feeling of fear. Fred's family ran the Restaurant-Hotel Barschak. You must understand: I might not have heard much in an ordinary household, but this was a place where people came to be together. It was the centre for Polish Jewry & the Landsmannschaft. The conversation you heard was not what a normal eight year old is hearing: ‘By the way, Feuchtwanger—he’s got visas for Argentina. So & so has this. Then, in a hushed voice I’m not supposed to hear: ‘Sie nicht mehr leben’—they’ve committed suicide. There were 650 suicides in this period. The Jewish population in Vienna was about 193,000 then. So you knew perhaps a little more about what was going on than you would expect to. At the same time, somehow the children, especially children, were carrying on living normal lives. The older boys had much more fear. I wasn't yet aware of the dangers we were in: what they could do & what they were doing. I knew it all on Kristallnacht. I saw with my own eyes. I saw Mr Rakower, married to my father’s niece, came back from Dachau with one eye down here, not up there, beaten black & blue. I saw other things. Just after the Anschluss, when Jews could still play in the parks, I was playing ball in the park & there were lots of SA & SS. The SA were the brown shirts. The SS wore black uniforms. Very smart. I call them demonic. Suddenly the ball went right past me & rolled up at the feet of one of the SS men. I went to get the ball. The SS man didn’t do anything. The SA were much rougher than the SS. The SS preserved their cruelties for much more important things. I came back & Felsenberg, this older boy, got hold of me & said: ‘Listen, don’t worry about the brown shirts, they'll only beat you. But be careful of the black shirts. They can kill you.’ Then in June, with that in mind there suddenly appeared through the swing doors of our hotel, two months later, two SS men. I was standing by my father. He said ‘Steh still’ ‘Stand still’, meaning, ‘don’t panic’. Nothing to panic about. ‘Good morning, can I help you?’ One of them, with a narrow waist, a somewhat elongated face & glasses, simply said: ‘We’ve heard you serve an excellent chopped liver & we’d like to try some.’ ‘Wir haben gehört, Sie haben eine ausgezeichnete gahackte Leber hier. Wir möchten es probieren. My father said: ‘Nehmen sie Platz bitte’, pointing to the restaurant. Then he said to me: ‘Run upstairs’ & he added something, which I didn’t understand at the time: ‘They’re not here just for the chopped liver.’ There’s a book & on page 200-202 there’s a full account of the visit of Eichmann to four hotels. One was ours. He wanted to take them over because he was decanting all the Jews from the provinces, stripping them of their goods then making sure they emigrated. The policy then was emigration, not extermination—that came later. I can’t prove it, but I just have the feeling because it said that he always inspected the hotels personally. I believe that was Eichmann, Eichmann asking for chopped liver. 937: Eichmann Asking For Chopped Liver Fred Barschak 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 937: Eichmann Asking For Chopped Liver ← Previous Memory All Memories Next Memory → Fred Barschak Read Full Text Previous Memory Home Memories People Places Experiences About Contact Menu Close Next Memory ← Previous Memory Credits & tags Edited from Fred Barschak's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2007 • Learn More → Fred Barschak Anschluss Asked To Leave School Encounter With Nazi Officials Food November Pogrom / Kristallnacht Suicide Read AJR biography Next Memory → See Instagram & Facebook posts Austria See Locations Full Text March 12, 1938: Germany invades Austria. Fred Barschak was 7. Lorries with Nazis shouting & screaming. Windows smashed. On Saturday a completely different scene: elderly Jews scrubbing the pavements & marvellous shouts of ‘At last, Hitler’s found work for the Jews!" The first change was: we were thrown out of school a month & a half later. Instead we went to these…to some other schools organised by the Kultusgemeinde. You learnt English or French or Hebrew, depending where you thought you were going to. There was a feeling of fear. Fred's family ran the Restaurant-Hotel Barschak. You must understand: I might not have heard much in an ordinary household, but this was a place where people came to be together. It was the centre for Polish Jewry & the Landsmannschaft. The conversation you heard was not what a normal eight year old is hearing: ‘By the way, Feuchtwanger—he’s got visas for Argentina. So & so has this. Then, in a hushed voice I’m not supposed to hear: ‘Sie nicht mehr leben’—they’ve committed suicide. There were 650 suicides in this period. The Jewish population in Vienna was about 193,000 then. So you knew perhaps a little more about what was going on than you would expect to. At the same time, somehow the children, especially children, were carrying on living normal lives. The older boys had much more fear. I wasn't yet aware of the dangers we were in: what they could do & what they were doing. I knew it all on Kristallnacht. I saw with my own eyes. I saw Mr Rakower, married to my father’s niece, came back from Dachau with one eye down here, not up there, beaten black & blue. I saw other things. Just after the Anschluss, when Jews could still play in the parks, I was playing ball in the park & there were lots of SA & SS. The SA were the brown shirts. The SS wore black uniforms. Very smart. I call them demonic. Suddenly the ball went right past me & rolled up at the feet of one of the SS men. I went to get the ball. The SS man didn’t do anything. The SA were much rougher than the SS. The SS preserved their cruelties for much more important things. I came back & Felsenberg, this older boy, got hold of me & said: ‘Listen, don’t worry about the brown shirts, they'll only beat you. But be careful of the black shirts. They can kill you.’ Then in June, with that in mind there suddenly appeared through the swing doors of our hotel, two months later, two SS men. I was standing by my father. He said ‘Steh still’ ‘Stand still’, meaning, ‘don’t panic’. Nothing to panic about. ‘Good morning, can I help you?’ One of them, with a narrow waist, a somewhat elongated face & glasses, simply said: ‘We’ve heard you serve an excellent chopped liver & we’d like to try some.’ ‘Wir haben gehört, Sie haben eine ausgezeichnete gahackte Leber hier. Wir möchten es probieren. My father said: ‘Nehmen sie Platz bitte’, pointing to the restaurant. Then he said to me: ‘Run upstairs’ & he added something, which I didn’t understand at the time: ‘They’re not here just for the chopped liver.’ There’s a book & on page 200-202 there’s a full account of the visit of Eichmann to four hotels. One was ours. He wanted to take them over because he was decanting all the Jews from the provinces, stripping them of their goods then making sure they emigrated. The policy then was emigration, not extermination—that came later. I can’t prove it, but I just have the feeling because it said that he always inspected the hotels personally. I believe that was Eichmann, Eichmann asking for chopped liver. 937: Eichmann Asking For Chopped Liver Fred Barschak Edited from Fred Barschak's interview with Dr Bea Lewkowicz for AJR Refugee Voices Testimony Archive, February 2007 • Learn More → Text adapted and edited by Susanna Kleeman Facebook & Instagram Posts