The Kindertransports
KINDERTRANSPORT, 1938-1940
Kindertransport (Children's Transport) was the informal name of a series of
rescue efforts which brought thousands of refugee Jewish children to Great
Britain from Nazi Germany between 1938 and 1940.
Following the violent pogrom staged by the Nazi authorities upon Jews in
Germany known as Kristallnacht (Night of Broken Glass) of 9-10 November
1938, the British government eased immigration restrictions for certain
categories of Jewish refugees. Spurred by British public opinion and the
persistent efforts of refuge aid committees, most notably the British
Committee for the Jews of Germany and the Movement for the Care of
Children from Germany, British authorities agreed to permit an unspecified
number of children under the age of 17 to enter Great Britain from Germany
and German-annexed territories (namely, Austria and the Czech lands).
Private citizens or organizations had to guarantee to pay for each child's care,
education, and eventual emigration from Britain. In return for this guarantee,
the British government agreed to allow unaccompanied refugee children to
enter the country on temporary travel visas. It was understood at the time that
when the “crisis was over,” the children would return to their families. Parents
or guardians could not accompany the children. The few infants included in the
program were tended by other children on their transport.
Kindertransports
During the nine months before the outbreak of the Second World War, 10,000
Jewish children were transported to Britain from mainland Europe. These were
known as the Kindertransports, or children transports.
A delegation of British Jewish leaders first approached British Prime Minister
Neville Chamberlain on 15 November 1938. A week later, a delegation of
Jewish and non-Jewish groups appealed to Home Secretary Sir Samuel Hoare.
The delegation was united under a non-denominational organisation called the
Movement for the Care of Children from Germany.
The British government agreed to accept a limited number of unaccompanied
refugee Jewish children under the age of 17. Travel documents would be issued
for groups, rather than individuals, to speed the process. A £50 bond was
required for each child (just over £2,000 in 2006) to finance their eventual
return home.
The movement, later the Refugee Children’s Movement (R.C.M), acted quickly.
It sent representatives to Germany and Austria to establish selection and
transport procedures, and priority was given to those children most in danger.
In Britain, a radio appeal for foster homes broadcast on the B.B.C. Home
Service generated some 500 initial offers. R.C.M. volunteers began visiting
these potential foster homes to report on conditions.
The first Kindertransport from Berlin departed on 1 December 1938; the first
from Vienna left on 10 December. After three months, the emphasis shifted
from Germany to Austria. Transports from Prague were hastily arranged after
the German army entered Czechoslovakia in March 1939. Transports of Polish
Jewish children were arranged in February and August 1939.
Transport trains crossed into the Netherlands and Belgium then continued to
Britain by ship. The first Kindertransport ship arrived at Harwich in England on
2 December 1938. They continued to arrive twice a week until June and July
1939, when they landed daily.
The outbreak of war forced Kindertransports to end. The last train left
Germany on 1 September. The last transport ship left the Netherlands on 14
May 1940, the day that the Dutch army surrendered to Germany.
On arrival in England, children with prearranged sponsors were sent to London.
The many who remained unsponsored waited in Dovercourt and other
transient camps. Children were eventually dispersed throughout England,
Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. Many Jewish and non-Jewish families
accepted them despite the strain of wartime bombing and shortages.
Children over the age of 14 who were not sponsored, sent to boarding schools
or taken into foster care, were often absorbed into Britain’s labour force. They
mainly went into agriculture or domestic service after a few weeks of training.
In 1940, some 1,000 children over the age of 16 were interred as ‘enemy
aliens’. Around 400 were transported overseas to Canada and Australia.
However, public protest against these internments saw the return of many
deportees.
Boys in particular were subsequently able to do war work or enter the Alien
Pioneer Corp. About 1,000 German and Austrian teenagers served in the British
armed forces, including combat units, with several dozen joining elite
formations such as the Special Forces.
Some 10,000 unaccompanied Jewish children escaped to Britain from
Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia and Poland. Most survived the war. A few
were reunited with family members who had spent the war in hiding or
survived the Nazi camps.
Many children lost their homes and families forever. In the six years following
the last Kindertransport, the Nazis and their collaborators killed nearly six
million European Jews, including nearly 1.5 million children.
On 16 September 2003, former Kindertransport survivors who had arrived at
London’s Liverpool Street Station in 1938 and 1939 returned to the station.
There they unveiled a commemorative statue to remember their first arrival.
On 14 June 1999, the Speaker of the House of Commons, Betty Boothroyd,
unveiled a plaque in the Palace of Westminster. It reads:
‘In deep gratitude to the people and Parliament of the United Kingdom for
saving the lives of 10,000 Jewish and other children who fled to this country
from Nazi persecution on the Kindertransport 1938–1939’
The first Kindertransport arrived in Harwich, Great Britain, on December 2,
1938, bringing some 200 children from a Jewish orphanage in Berlin which had
been destroyed in the Kristallnacht pogrom. Like this convoy, most transports
left by train from Berlin, Vienna, Prague, and other major cities in Central
Europe. Children from smaller towns and villages traveled from their homes to
these collection points in order to join the transports. Jewish organizations
inside the Greater German Reich -- specifically the Reich Representation of
Jews in Germany, headquartered in Berlin (and after early 1939, its successor
organization the Reich Association of Jews in Germany), as well as the Jewish
Community Organization (Kultusgemeinde) in Vienna -- planned the transports.
These associations generally favored children whose emigration was urgent
because their parents were in concentration camps or were no longer able to
support them. They also gave priority to homeless children and orphans.
Children chosen for a Kindertransport convoy traveled by train to ports in
Belgium and the Netherlands, from where they sailed to Harwich. (At least one
of the early transports left from the port of Hamburg in Germany, while some
children from Czechoslovakia were flown by plane directly to Britain). The last
transport from Germany left on September 1, 1939, just as World War II began,
while the last transport from the Netherlands left for Britain on May 14, 1940,
the day on which the Dutch army surrendered to German forces. In all, the
rescue operation brought about 9,000-10,000 children, some 7,500 of them
Jewish, from Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, and Poland to Great Britain.
After the children's transports arrived in Harwich, those children with sponsors
went to London to meet their foster families. Those children without sponsors
were housed in a summer camp in Dovercourt Bay and in other facilities until
individual families agreed to care for them or until hostels could be organized
to care for larger groups of children. Many organizations and individuals
participated in the rescue operation. Inside Britain, the Movement for the Care
of Children from Germany coordinated many of the rescue efforts. Jews,
Quakers, and Christians of many denominations worked together to bring
refugee children to Britain. About half of the children lived with foster families.
The others stayed in hostels, schools, or on farms throughout Great Britain.
In 1940, British authorities interned as enemy aliens about 1,000 children from
the children's transport program on the Isle of Man and in other internment
camps in Canada and Australia. Despite their classification as enemy aliens,
some of the boys from the children's transport program later joined the British
army and fought in the war against Germany.
After the war, many children from the children's transport program became
citizens of Great Britain, or emigrated to Israel, the United States, Canada, and
Australia. Most of these children would never again see their parents, who
were murdered during the Holocaust.
Kindertransport
The German word Kindertransport translated literally into English means the
transportation of children and in desperation it was how Jewish parents tried
to get their children out of the growing Nazi territory.
In Britain, a coalition of Jewish, Quaker and other groups appealed to
Parliament, which agreed to admit a limited number of refugee children
between the ages of 5 and 17, provided each posted a £50 bond "to assure
their ultimate resettlement." The coalition provided the money and
throughout 1939, children left Germany, Austria and Czechoslovakia by train.
In the final nine months before World War II, nearly 10,000 unaccompanied
Jewish children escaped from Germany on trains headed for the freedom of
Britain. All hoped it would be a brief separation, for most it was a final
farewell. The last train left Germany just two days before the start of the war.
From Holland, the children sailed to England then fanned out to Ireland,
Scotland and Wales as well. They were sent to foster families, orphanages,
group homes and farms, where some of them worked. Unfortunately though
there were cases of abuse, neglect and exploitation most are said to have
been well -treated but most never saw their parents again.
In the United States, immigration quotas stayed strict. A congressional
committee studied a proposal to bring in refugee children and piously
declined, saying it was "contrary to the rules of God" to take children away
from their parents. Nevertheless, it's estimated that 20 to 25 percent of
Kindertransport veterans eventually moved to North America.
The Kindertransport's Arrive in England
Image shown above: Members of the first Kindertransport arrive in Harwich,
England
Picture credit: USHMM
The Journey
The Nazis made sure the journey was humiliating and terrifying. Trains were
grimly sealed. Parents were sometimes not permitted to say goodbye in
public. The children had to take trains to Holland so that they would not
"sully" German ports. Their luggage was torn apart by guards searching for
valuables.
In some cities, parents were not even allowed to say goodbye at the train
stations so as to avoid any public spectacle. In Holland the trains were met by
committees of volunteers who gave the children refreshments and helped
them board the boats taking them to their new homes.
Arriving in Britain
image shown right: Refugee girl, part of a Children's Transport
(Kindertransport), shortly after arrival in Harwich. Great Britain, December 2,
1938
Picture credit: Bibliotheque Historique de la Ville de Paris
The first Kindertransport ferries arrived in Britain in early December 1938 each
carrying about 200 children. Thereafter, about two transports per week
landed until June and July 1939, when they landed daily. The organisation,
which found accommodation for the children in Britain, was called the
Movement for the Care of Children from Gemany? (later shortened to the
Refugee Children's Movement) The Movement generally billeted or fostered
the children with local families or settled them at orphanages or other
institutions around the country.
Great Britain welcomed the children into their homes, schools, and group
camps. Even under the stress of wartime bombings and shortages, hundreds
of households welcomed the children into their fold. Remarkably few of the
displaced children were abused or exploited. Hearts closed the gaps left by
language, culture, and religion. As war raged on the mainland, the children
settled into their new land, older ones clinging to memories and hopes,
younger ones leaving their roots and mother tongue behind.
Left Behind
Image shown right: Children left behind in a Jewish Ghetto orphanage
Picture credit: Australian memories of the Holocaust
Of the children who stayed in Europe after 1939, over a million were
murdered immediately by the Nazis or deported to camps and killed or died
there. There were some special children's camps, but usually children were
killed immediately because they had no capacity to work. In some camps, such
as Auschwitz were the subjects of horrific medical experiments, after which
they usually died or were killed. Twin and dwarf Jewish and Gypsy children
were special targets for such abuse. In total, 1.5 million children were
murdered during the Holocaust.
Kindertransports Remembered Kindertransport commemorative statue unveiled at
Liverpool Street Station
above: Photographs from the Unveiling of Kindertransport Commemorative
Statue at Liverpool Street Station,
'
'Children of the Kindertransport who, as mainly Jewish refugee children, had
arrived in London’s Liverpool Street Station in 1938 and 1939, on 16th
September 2003 gathered together once again at this main London railway
terminus to unveil a commemorative statue dedicated to perpetuating the
memory of their first arrival in such harrowing circumstances.
Rescuer of many Czech Kinder, Sir Nicholas Winton, now in his 94th year,
unveiled a plaque some 65 years after the event, thanking Britain for offering
a home to 10,000 children whose parents desperately wanted to protect their
children’s lives from Nazi persecution in Germany, Austria and Czechoslovakia.
Two of the rescued Kinder, Harry Heber and Erich Reich, assisted Sir Nicholas
in unveiling the bronze statue of a child refugee standing next to a giant
transparent case containing some of the preciously few items of clothing, toys,
family photographs and other memorabilia which the children were permitted
to take with them.
The unveiling ceremony was addressed by the Home Secretary, the Rt Hon
David Blunkett MP, the Chief Rabbi, Dr Jonathan Sacks, and founder of the
Reunion of Kindertransport (now KT-AJR), Bertha Leverton who spoke on
behalf of the Kinder. Others among the distinguished gathering, which took
place under warm sun and clear blue skies, included the ambassadors of
Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, Poland and Israel, and the statue’s
sculptor, Flor Kent.
The Association of Jewish Refugees was among the first generously to support
the project and contributed to the organisation of this historic
commemoration ceremony. The project was conceived and brought to fruition
by World Jewish Relief, established in 1933 as the Central British Fund, which
carried out the major part of the rescue and found sponsors and homes for
the children.'
Quoted from Association of Jewish Refugees,
http://www.ajr.org.uk/archive.htm
The monument, the sculpture, 'Fur Das Kind (for the child)' commissioned by
world Jewish relief to mark its major role in organising the Kindertransports
that saved ten thousand Jewish youngsters from across occupied Europe, is
now a major landmark.
Created by sculptor Flor Kent, it depicts a child standing beside a glass
suitcase, containing original artefacts such as books, toys and photos carried
by youngsters when they arrived in Britain in 1938 and 1939.
Rt. Hon David Blunkett said:
The Kindertransport illustrated this nation's willingness to reach out, to
embrace both our duty and our responsibility for helping others.
These people and organisations committed selfless acts that had a farreaching impact. They serve as a reminder to all humanity today that we must
not stand by, we must show moral courage and we must confront prejudice in
all its forms.
I was very moved by these refugees' stories and am pleased that Furr Das Kind
will help ensure these human experiences are valued and kept alive in
people's memories.
The Plaque above was unveiled by the Speaker of the House of
Commons,Betty Boothroyd, in the Palace of Westminster on 14 June 1999
Alice (Ebostarkova) Masters
Describes leaving Czechoslovakia on a Kindertransport (Children's Transport) [1995 interview]
So we got on the train. Of course, it was very, very emotional, but all those children were in the same boat. And
there was another little girl that joined us. Her name was Eva Rothberger, she was the, also 10 years old. My
sister--by the way, my older sister was 15. I was just turned 14, and my younger sister was 10. Another little girl
joined us, the daughter of a friend of my uncle's. Her name was Eva Rothberger, and she came with us, so there
were four of us. And there were lots of children in the compartment, and we were frightened, excited. And
there were other kids in the same boat, so I suppose we didn't know what to expect. But what our father told us
that we were going to go through Holland and that because it was Friday night, we would get off the train and
spend the Shabbat...Sabbath in, uh, Amsterdam or in the Hague, I'm not sure where we went through, but, in
any case, in Holland. And so we were quite excited about that, but when we arrived in Holland on Friday
evening, we were told that the Dutch authorities didn't want us to get off the train. I think they were afraid of
too many refugees being dropped off on the border, in Holland. So they decided that they were not to get off
the train. So instead, lots of people came to the railway station with, uh, hot chocolate and bars of chocolate
and cookies and they handed these things over to us through open windows in the train. And I was very, very
grateful about that. I thought it was very kind, although I was very disappointed and felt terrible that they didn't
want us. That the Dutch authorities didn't want us to get off, I couldn't--I mean, that was very painful for me to
think that they...these people didn't want us. I mean, I couldn't understand it, but then I was very happy that
these people came and I was grateful to see these people at the train doing something for us. So I guess I
consoled myself with that. Now, we crossed the--we were very frightened when we came to Germany, because
we, there was an inspection. The German uniformed soldiers came on the train, all of the, uh, and they
inspected our luggage. And we were frightened, and, of course, once we left Germany, we were all thrilled and
cheered like crazy. We were thrilled to be out of Germany and said, "Now, we are okay, we are safe, safe."
Then we arrived in England, which was very, very exciting. Again, it was just a big blur. All I remember is these
hundreds of children with tags with the numbers in front. And a loudspeaker, people were picking up the kids
that were being assigned to them. It was enormous commotion and I was, and our name was not called for the
longest time. And we waited and waited for a long time, and finally our name was called, and there was our
uncle picking us up. And he came with my guardian, because we each, in order to get us to England, he had to
get a guardian for each of us. And that meant that he needed a signature from, for each of us. I think that's the
way it worked, that each child had to have a guarantor. Now my uncle got guardians for my...all three of us. My
older sister, Josie, and my younger sister, Ellie's guardian, was Dame Myra Hess, who was a pianist, a famous
pianist. And my guardian was Ms. Fannie Bandit, who was a violinist. Now she, my uncle came to the station to
pick us up with Fannie Bandit, my guardian, who was a, a spinster lady, very well-to-do. And she came to
actually to meet us at the station, and my uncle said, "Now, we are going to drive to where you are going to live,
in Burgess Hill. It's a children's home." And we were absolutely shocked about that because we thought we
were going to stay with my uncle. I didn't know we were going to a children's home. And...I'm not sure, I don't
know, well, of course, my uncle, it was weird. I understood why it happened, but my older sister was very upset
with my uncle because she thought that he should take my little sister, who was 10 years old. But my uncle was
in a very precarious position because he was just newly married, and he had a baby, and they had a small flat in
London. And I think his wife was not inclined to take a child, although she says--and she was, she's very close to
us now--I mean, we are very close. She says that, um, she participated, that she was the one who did most of
the work to get us the, out of Czechoslovakia. But she was not the sort of person who wanted to take a child in. I
mean, she just, I don't know how that, how that happened. But in any case, the three of us went to this home in
Sussex. It was called Wyberley, W-y-b-e-r-l-e-y, Wyberley. It was a...used to be a convalescent home for, uh,
Jewish people. It was in Burgess Hill, Sussex. It was in beautiful grounds, a lovely place, lovely home. And they
built sort of an addition to the back of this huge home where we were being housed, the children were being
housed. When we arrived, I, well, I can tell you how it was very painful that my uncle took us there.
Paul M. Cohn, (Childhood in Hamburg).
On 21st November 1938, following the Pogrom Night of 9th/10th November 1938, the British government
decided to take in Jewish children from Germany, and offer them refuge from Nazi persecution. The Jewish
communities in Germany, and relief organizations abroad, such as the World Movement for the Care of Children
from Germany, organized the rescue operation. On 2nd December 1938, the first Kindertransport arrived in the
East Anglian port of Harwich, England. Between December 1938 and the beginning of September 1939, around
10,000 children were brought to England by ship.
Only Jewish children were given refuge. They had to separate from their parents. The majority of the children
never saw their parents again.
Kindertransport to Harwich, 15.12.1938.
On board 300 Jewish children from Hamburg and environs.
According to a communication from the Hamburg state archives, dated 19.01.1991, the records make very little
reference to these Kindertransports. A report from the Hamburg Landesjugendamt (Youth Welfare Department)
states that: "von der jüdischen Gemeinde in der letzten Zeit mehrere Transporte jüdischer Kinder in
ausländische Pflegestellen getätigt (Polen und England)" ("The Jewish community has recently organized several
transports of Jewish children to foster homes abroad (Poland and England)"). On 6,12.1938, the Devisenstelle
des Oberfinanzpräsident Hamburg (Head of the Foreign Exchange Department) observes: "Nach Rücksprache
mit ... der Paßpolizei legt die Gestapo Wert darauf, daß auch für die mit Sammeltransport aus Deutschland
auswandernden Judenkinder Unbedenklichkeitsbescheinigungen der Zentralen Paßstelle für Paßzwecke
vorgelegt werden. Es werden in nächster Zeit noch etwa 1.000 Judenkinder aus Hamburg auswandern"
("Following consultation with ... of the passport police the Gestapo consider that also Jewish children emigrating
from Germany on group transports should submit documents to the central passport office certifying that they
have no taxes, loans, etc. outstanding. A further 1,000 Jewish children will be emigrating from Hamburg in the
near future"). In a letter dated 5.01.1940, referring to a teacher at the Talmud-Tora-Schule (Talmud Torah
School, No. 30 Grindelhof), who had accompanied Kindertransports at the end of 1938 and in the Spring of 1939,
the Hamburg Gestapo informed the foreign exchange department that: "Er hat für die Auswanderung jüdischer
Kinder sehr gut gearbeitet. Mit seiner Hilfe sind vom November 1938 bis jetzt ungefähr 1,000 Kinder
ausgewandert." ("He has done a good job assisting in the emigration of Jewish children. With his help, around
1,000 children emigrated between 1938 and today").
Jewish children on a Kindertransport arriving in England, December 1938.
In the summer of 1989, in London, a thousand former Kindertransport children held a 50th anniversary reunion.
Sabine Brüning and Peter Merseburger made a documentary film of the occasion: Als sie nicht mehr deutsche
sein durfen. Über die Kindertransporte nach England.
Paul Cohn, from Hamburg, is one of the former child refugees who appears in the film. He was separated from
his parents as a child and rescued from Nazi persecution by a Kindertransport to England. Today he lives in
London. His parents' attemps to emigrate were unsuccessful, and on 26th December 1941, Julia and Jakob Cohn
were deported to Riga, in Latvia, and murdered there.
A plaque commemorating the Kindertransports has been erected on the dock at Harwich.
Paul M. Cohn:
Childhood in Hamburg.
Paul Cohn, 1980.
I was born, in Hamburg, on the 8.01.1924, the only child of my parents Julia and Jakob Cohn. Both my parents
were born in Hamburg, as were three of my grandparents. Previous generations of my family came from
Hamburg, Leipzig, Berlin, Greiffenberg, but so far as I have been able to trace, always from Germany. They
considered themselves German (at least until 1933); my father fought at the front in the First World War, was
wounded many times, and awarded the Iron Cross (the highest decoration for bravery awarded to the German
armed forces in wartime). Because of his hesitation in emigrating, it became more and more difficult.
Unfortunately, his attempts were unsuccessful.
When I was born, my parents lived with my maternal grandmother in Isestraße. When she died, on October
1925, my parents moved into a rented flat in a new building in Lattenkamp, in the district of Winterhude. The
front of our building overlooked the elevated railway which I frequently observed, being interested in technical
things. At this time very few people owned cars; when, in 1928, I contracted scarlet fever, I was taken to the
hospital in a one-horse carriage. At the rear, we overlooked a laundry yard, with many horses and carts, and a
few delivery vans; but the small adjacent chicken run was more fascinating. The cock crowed in the morning like
an illustration in my favourite book "Max und Moritz" by Wilhelm Busch.
Here I spent happy childhood years, mostly unaffected by the political and economic crises of the 1920s. My
father owned an import business and my mother was a teacher, and although we did not live in luxury we had
sufficient. As my mother worked during the day we had a home help, but mostly I had to rely on myself, and
was happy playing alone. I was a house-mouse and only reluctantly played outside. There were numerous
children in the neighbourhood, and a few of the older boys had the upper hand.
Class photograph with the teacher, Frau Rödler, Alsterdorfer Straße School, 1931.
Paul Cohn, back row, fourth from the left.
I attended a kindergarten for a while. In April 1930, I entered school (Alsterdorfer Straße School). I was very
eager to learn, and could hardly wait the day. I enjoyed the lessons, less so the breaks, as I was often teased and
was unable to defend myself. I have no evidence that antisemitism played a role. (There were one or two other
Jewish boys in the class, but this was not a topic). Our teacher was very nice and I got on well with her. When
she became absent for a long period, due to illness, the class was divided up among other classes. I acquired a
male teacher who continuously picked on me and punished me without cause. When my parents visited the
head teacher they learnt that he was a National Socialist. As nothing could be done to remedy this situation, in
1931, my parents moved me to the Meerweinstraße School. The school had been founded in 1930, and my
mother taught there. The school was very progressive, for example it was coeducational. By chance, my form
teacher was Jewish. She, and my mother, were the only two teachers at the school who were Jewish. I
experienced no antisemitism during the two and a half years I spent at the school. Politics was not a topic, and
religious education lessons were not compulsory, "Lebenskunde" (Ethics) being the alternative. In 1932, a small
sensation occured when one or two boys, (not from my class), came to school in Nazi uniform. During the break
they were gazed at like rare birds. There were no repercussions. Things were very different after 1933. My
father's business, which had declined over the previous years, was wound up. In April, the "Gesetz zur
Wiederherstellung des Berufsbeamtentums" came into force, (The Act of 7.04.1933 to re-establish the civil
service with tenure. With the re-establishment of a "national" civil service, with tenure, civil servants could be
dismissed. Civil servants who were not of "Aryan" descent i.e. Jews (by Nazi definition), were compulsorily
retired from work) and, in October, my mother was dismissed. Only after long negotiations was she able to
obtain a small pension, due to her 25 years of public service. My parents now decided to send me to the
"Jüdische Schule in Hamburg" ("Jewish School in Hamburg" (the Talmud-Tora-Schule, at No. 30 Grindelhof), in
the Grindel quarter. This was a considerable distance from where we lived, but it was ideal preparation for
secondary school entry, that was to take place in 1943. I remember that we had the same arithmetic book in the
Talmud-Tora-Schule as we had in Meerweinstraße, but in the latter we were on page 17, whereas my new class
were on page 34. Shortly thereafter, the class teacher invited my mother to the school and informed her that I
had much to catch up on. I was especially to master mental arithmetic. After I had recovered from the shock I
worked flat out. Intensive learning was totally new to me, but an enjoyable experience. At the end of the year I
had no difficulty with the entry exam for secondary school. If I had remained at my old school the result could
have been very different. The main reason for the change of school was that I should be in a sympathetic
environment. I was conscious of the difference between school in the Grindel quarter and my home in
Winterhude. We experienced practically no open antisemitism there. It was more common that someone spoke
in a friendly way to us, but added that he officially had to think and behave in such and such a way. It is possible
that this behaviour blurred how imperative it was for a Jew to emigrate to survive. The ever more far-reaching
antisemitic laws made this alarmingly clear, and at the same time made the possibility of emigration more
difficult. In mid 1937, we moved to Klosterallee. This not only brought me nearer the school, and other pupils,
but gave me a greater feeling of security, as most Hamburg Jews lived in the Grindel quarter. The location of the
flat also made it easier to attend the synagogue. We were not orthodox Jews but attended synagogue on high
holidays.
Apartment house in Klosterallee, 1937.
These school years were a delight for me. We had many teachers with doctor's degrees, who made learning a
pleasure. The German lessons given by Dr. Ernst Loewenberg, the son of the poet Jakob Loewenberg, gave me a
knowledge of and predilection for my native language, that I have never lost. The English lessons seemeed to me
more entertainment than learning. When I later came to England I had no problem in communicating. As I left
school at the age of 15, I only had a short introduction to the natural sciences: Physics for a year, and Chemistry
not at all. The Mathematics teacher was our form teacher. He was a disciplinarian, and I was somewhat cheeky.
From the very start a poor relationship developed between us. But mathematics was my favourite subject, and
he was an outstanding teacher, so we gradually came to respect one another.
Emigration was a continual problem, that became acute in 1938. On the Pogrom Night of 9th/10th November
1938, my father, like most adult Jewish males, was arrested by the police and imprisoned in Sachsenhausen
concentration camp. School was interrupted as most teachers had been imprisoned. My mother had the double
task of getting my father released and of finding a possibility of emigrating. Due to mass unemployment most
countries were unprepared to grant work permits. To acquire an emigration permit one had to find someone to
guarantee that the emigrant would not become a burden to the state. Unfortunately, we had no connections
abroad. The only place that did not require an entry permit was Shanghai, and all ships sailing there were fully
booked. Then the Netherlands offered to admit children without a guarantee. My mother immediately
registered me, and I began to learn Dutch. My father was released after nearly four months imprisonment.
Before being released from the concentration camp the prisoners were informed that: "Wir entlassen Euch nur
zu einem Zweck: damit ihr auswandert. Wenn Ihr das nicht tut, könntet Ihr Euch hier mal wieder finden. Und
dann kommt Ihr nicht mehr raus". ("We are releasing your with the sole intention: that you emigrate. If you
don't, you could find yourselves back here. And then you won't get out again"). Now emigration was essential,
but practically impossible. Shortly before this, one had to hand in all gold and silver; each family was allowed to
retain a maximum of six pieces of cutlery; furnishings could not be taken when emigrating. Money had been
frozen earlier.
In Spring 1939, England announced it was prepared to take in children without guarantee, and my parents
immediately registered me, regarding the island safer than the Netherlands, which was unfortunately shortly
thereafter confirmed. In April 1939, I left school, one year before the school-leaving exam. The formalities were
fulfilled, and my emigration, on the Kindertransport to England, was scheduled for 21st May 1939. A refugee
committee in England had found me a job on a chicken farm. Failing a work permit, I was not allowed to do paid
work, but was to learn farming, and when 18 years old be was to be sent to the dominions, where there was no
lack of work.
I was very sad having to leave my parents behind, but I was aware that our collective chance of emigration could
improve when I first travelled to England. My parents appeared to be in good spirits at our parting, although
they must have had the premonition that we would not see one another again.
The 4½ hectar chicken farm, with around 5,000 chickens, was owned by a couple who needed assistance with
the work. The actual work was easy, principally feeding and watering the birds, and mucking out, but it involved
around 70 hours work a week. I only had three afternoons free every two weeks. I had grown up a towny, but I
knew this was the chance of a new life. I corresponded regularly with my parents throughout the summer of
1939; I pursued the possibility of work for my parents, e.g. as housekeeper and gardener (my father was an
enthusiastic "Schreber-Gärtner") (allotment gardener). My efforts were unsuccessful, and when war broke out
all possibility of emigration ended.
From this point on, I only received a short letter once a month from my parents, through the Red Cross, that I
answered. It was also sometimes possible to send longer letters via relatives in America. The letters became less
and less frequent, and at the end of 1941 they stopped altogether. At the end of the war I learnt that my parents
had been deported, on 6th December 1941, to Riga, in Latvia, and had not returned.
The rest is quickly told. At the end of 1941 the chicken farmer had to give up his farm due to lack of feed. After a
short training as a precision engineer I acquired a work permit, and worked in a factory for 4½ years. During this
time I took a correspondence course to study for my school leaving certificate. With encouragement from the
committee for refugees I passed the Cambridge Scholarship Examination, and was awarded a scholarship to
study mathematics at Trinity College, Cambridge. In 1951, I graduated with a PhD. I then spent a year in Nancy,
France, as Chargé des Recherches, then as lecturer in Manchester and London universities, and finally as Astor
Professor at University College London, until 1989 when I retired. I continue to do research in mathematics.
How have I settled down here? In a way, very well, which has to do with the unprejudiced manner in which my
English colleagues have accepted me. I married an English woman of Jewish descent, and we have two grown-up
daughters. However, I am conscious of my origins; I am not a genuine Englishman - but I am also not German
any more. I do not feel homesick. It is a yearning for something that no longer exists, something like a pain in a
leg after it has been amputated. I have often, professionally, visited post-war Germany, Frankfurt, Bielefeld,
Darmstadt, Duisburg, Berlin and several times the Oberwolfach Research Institute. I have a good relationship
with German colleagues, but my home is here in England.
Literature:
Karen Gershon, Wir kamen als Kinder. Eine kollektive Autobiografie. Frankfurt am Main 1988.
Rüdiger Wersebe, Julia Cohn, Eine Kollegin verschwand spurlos. In: Ursel Hochmuth/Hans-Peter de Lorent,
Hamburg: Schule untern Hakenkreuz. Hamburg 1985, S 201-202.
Souvenir Broschure. Reunion of Kindertransporte. 50th Anniversary 1939-89. London o. J. (1989).
Mark Jonathan Harris and Deborah Oppenheimer: Into The Arms Of Strangers: Stories Of The Kindertransport.
Bloomsbury, 2000
Documentary Film:
Sabine Brüning/Peter Merseburger, Als sie nicht mehr deutsch sein durften. Über die Kindertransporte nach
England. Dokumentarfilm. Sender Freies Berlin 1989.
Mark Jonathan Harris, writer/director: Kindertransport. "Into The Arms Of Strangers: Stories Of The
Kindertransport". 2000.
Struan Robertson