Into the Arms of Strangers: Stories of the Kindertransport Page #7

your mommy's face.

"Your writing is so natural...

"...it makes me imagine

that you're standing before me. "

"Your letters come to us like sunshine.

"It's our future that gives us big worries.

"We yearn to get away from here.

"That's our fondest wish.

"It'll be a difficult task for you

to bring us over there...

"...but I have the feeling

you'll manage it in time. "

When I arrived in England...

... I made it my priority...

... to try and find homes for people...

... because I felt people didn't know...

... how desperate it was in Germany.

My biggest problem

was to try and get my parents out.

That was difficult,

because it was either finding them a job...

... and bearing in mind my father's age...

...or getting this 100 guarantee...

...which was just nowhere to be seen.

I proceeded...

... to find large houses...

... and knock at the door to find out...

... whether I could get them a job.

My mother as a cook or bottle washer.

My father as a gardener.

Anything just to get them out.

Sometimes I knocked at the door

and I burst into tears.

Sometimes I knocked at the door,

and with my very poor English...

... tried to explain what it was all about...

...who I was, what I wanted,

what I needed:
Help.

I did find someone...

...and it was just...

...like an unbelievable dream come true.

My father had a first cousin...

... in London.

Every weekend I took the train

into London...

... and bombarded him.

I said, "Uncle Paul...

"...you've got to get my parents

out of Germany."

He said, "I can't do it."

After me being so insistent

he finally said:

"I'll give him an affidavit

if he has a working permit."

I went back to the Rothschild estate...

... knocked on the door

and the butler...

...who was about 10-foot-6

came out...

...and said to me:

"What do you want?"

I said,

"I want to speak to Baron Rothschild."

He said, "Wait here."

I waited.

A couple of minutes later he says:

"Follow me."

I said to him, "Baron Rothschild...

"...my father's cousin will give him...

"...and my mother a visa...

"...provided he has a working permit."

Without hesitation...

...he said to me,

"Would he work on a chicken farm?"

I said, "He'll do anything."

He went to a notary...

... and made out a working permit

for my parents.

The family that chose me...

... were the only people

I could rely on to give a visa...

...for my little sister.

She was a beautiful little girl.

They had no children.

I showed them the photograph of Inge...

... and they seemed to like her very much.

But I realized one thing:

Uncle Billy...

... hated red hair.

Uncle Billy was paying maintenance...

...for a red-haired child,

not his, by his first wife.

Well, say no more.

Inge was a bright redhead.

The question of hair color never arose

because I had brown hair.

One day he said to me quite idly:

"What color hair does your sister have?"

I said, "Oh, like mine."

No more was said.

And they gave permission for her

to come and they would take her in.

I went very happily to England.

It was an adventure, you know,

to go abroad, to go on the train.

My sister wrote fantastic letters.

Everything was wonderful.

She was having a marvelous time.

So was my brother.

My brother said he had a dog.

When I got there...

...actually there was a dog and a cat.

The dog bit me.

I didn't think much of that.

Inge arrived, her hair aflame...

... titian-red...

Uncle Billy was furious.

He turned around

and he called me a so-and-so liar.

I said to him:

"Because Inge has red hair,

I leave her at home in Germany?

"Now you send her away. Don't mind.

"Thank you for asking her here."

He calmed down in the end

and he did accept her into the house.

I think, I had a sense...

... while I was playing,

while I was laughing...

...that was the moment when I could and

should've been doing something about...

...this demand on me

that I should bring my parents out.

From Dovercourt camp

I wrote a couple of letters...

... to the Refugee Committee in London.

I think they must have

been moved by a letter...

... from a child asking

to get her parents out of Vienna.

They did get my parents

a domestic service visa.

My parents appeared miraculously,

in Liverpool...

... on my 11th birthday.

I remember feeling...

...that some terrific weight

that I had been carrying...

...and hadn't known I had been carrying...

...was taken off my back.

Everything was being done

to get the papers...

... for my parents to come out...

... and war started.

And that was the end of that.

I just felt the world had come to an end.

Shattering, if I think about it.

Everything was built...

...around this reunion

and my temporary stay in England.

The fateful hour of 11:00 has struck...

... and the state of war once more exists

between Great Britain and Germany.

Only 25 minutes after war was declared

came the first air-raid warning.

Everything we'd ever talked about

or written about...

... or thought about, had all collapsed.

Everything had collapsed.

I think I cried for not weeks,

not months, I cried for years.

War ended all Kindertransports

and legal immigration...

... from Central Europe to England.

It also ended regular mail

between the children and their parents.

The only way

they could now communicate...

... was by 25-word postcards

sent through the International Red Cross.

The isolation came

when the letters ceased.

It was accepted that you didn't

talk about what hurt you.

I couldn't speak Czech with anybody.

I didn't want to tell my sister

how unhappy I was...

...because I felt she was too young.

I wrote at that time in my diary:

"I never dreamt

that one could be so lonely...

"...and go on living...

"...with this constant fear

for our loved ones.

"The tears I shed at night

do not ease my pain...

"...yet I was told that one feels better

after a good cry.

"All I have is a swollen face...

"...and my heart

is as heavy as it was before. "

My pillow often was very wet

in the morning.

There was a gardener...

... who didn't understand perhaps

what I was going through.

But he always said to me,

"Don't worry, it won't last long."

And whether I believed him or not

it was good to hear him say that.

And he always gave me a flower.

Within a few months

of their arrival in England...

... many of the refugees,

along with other English children...

... were forced to evacuate

to new families in the country...

... to escape the expected bombing

of the cities.

- You consented to take two children?

- Yes, I'll take in two children.

Two little girls. They'll

be happy with you, I'm sure.

- Thank you very much.

- Two nice little girls, aren't they?

None of the foster parents

with whom I stayed...

... and there were five of them...

... none of them could stand me

for very long.

All of them had the grace

to take in a Jewish child.

They were not particularly warm.

They did not love me.

I did not love them.

Nevertheless, they did,

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