Today, on Holocaust Memorial Day, we will remember the 6 million Jews killed by the Nazis and their collaborators during the Holocaust. Those who managed to escape the genocide, mostly fled with little besides the clothes they stood up in.
The Mirror’s #PeopleMove Instagram project has provided a platform for refugees and displaced people to share their stories – and speak about a beloved object they have held on to. Here, three survivors of the Nazis tell their stories, explaining the significance of the possession they have kept and treasured.
John Fieldsend BEM, 94 – Czechoslovakia – letter
“This is the farewell letter from my parents, passed to me by the Red Cross, along with three photo albums after the war had ended. It listed all the names of those who disappeared and that my parents knew they were about to be taken. It was the last contact I had from them. In 1943 were deported to a death camp in Poland, believed to be Auschwitz.
I was born in 1931 in Czechoslovakia, but we moved to Dresden, Germany. I lived with my parents and brother Arthur in a new flat. I had a lot of playmates. In the early years life was very good.
But one day in 1935 my father and I were playing with some lads in a big play area when suddenly they turned on us. They said ‘dirty Jews, we don’t want to play with you anymore’. They also punched and kicked us. It happened so suddenly.
We were not a big Jewish family, we were secular, well integrated into society, so it came as a shock. We had to stop going to school. There were signs outside all towns and cities saying ‘Jews are unwelcome guests’ or ‘Jews will not be served in this shop’.
I cut my head open when I fell onto a radiator while playing with my father. He took me to a doctor who told me I needed stitches, but said, ‘I don’t stitch Jews.’ He just put a plaster on it and I’m left with a scar.
It was the middle of the night in 1938 and my parents put Arthur, my brother, and I in the back of the car and we drove to my mother’s parents’ home in Czechoslovakia. We were safe there until UK Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain allowed the German army in.
In 1939 my parents arranged for Arthur and I to join the Kindertransport. We arrived at Liverpool Station and went to live with a lovely Christian family in Sheffield,
Arthur went to a different family. I went to 14 different schools throughout my childhood. I went to university, graduated twice and worked as an Anglican vicar. I got married and have three children, seven grandchildren and three great-grandchildren
It is important to keep our stories alive, as antisemitism is still present today.”
John Hajdu MBE, 88 – Budapest – Teddy
“This is Teddy, I’ve had him since I was about two or three-years-old – the only thing I have from my childhood. Teddy lived through the Nazis, Russians and the last escape when Soviet troops occupied Hungary.
I was born in April 1937 in Budapest, Hungary. We lived a reasonably happy life. In 1943 my father was taken to a labour camp. We visited him with food parcels. People were treated very badly.
On June 15, 1944, we had to leave our home and move into a designated yellow star block of flats. We were only allowed out between 2pm and 5pm and queued to get food.
At 6am on October 13, 1944, my mother was taken away, first made to work in Kophaza village and then forced to march to Mauthausen concentration camp, in Austria. My aunt grabbed me and we hid in a non-Jewish neighbour’s flat. We moved to the ghetto, where each flat housed 15 people. We survived on basic food. There was no water or electricity.
We were freed on January 17, 1945, and went to find my father and uncle, who set up a shop in Romania. My father had started a new relationship. I went to school and was recovering from the trauma.
Then, one day, my mum turned up. We were shocked. How she survived, I will never know. It was a miracle. She took me and we started a new life in Budapest.
I enrolled in the Railway Technical College in 1951 and, after graduating, was a labourer. But violent protests broke out in October against the ruling Communist government, and Soviet troops occupied Hungary.
There was no future for me and on November 20, 1965, we left our home with a few clothes, a little food and Teddy, travelling by train towards the Austrian border. We walked 40 kilometres into Austria. My mother was taken to Vienna and I travelled to a refugee camp near Innsbruck.
On February 6, 1957, we arrived in the UK together. I had a career in hotels and catering. In 1972, I married my wife, Maureen, and we have two children and three grandchildren.
I was treated amazingly well by the UK Government, we were made very welcome.”
Peter Summerfield BEM, 92 – Germany – Teddy
“This is Teddy, he’s 88 and the only thing I have from my life in Germany. All our belongings were stolen twice, but they couldn’t take Teddy, because I was holding him.
My twin brother and I were born in Berlin in June 1933 in a Jewish hospital – the year Hitler came to power. When my mother took us to the park, there were green benches for non-Jews. We had yellow benches.
One day we saw the synagogue burning. People were shouting as if it was Guy Fawkes night, like a day of celebration. They were kicking ornaments and important documents. People were looking at us like vermin.
We were friends with the local caretaker’s children. One day they said, ‘we’re no longer allowed to play with you. For some reason it’s because you’re Jewish’ – even though none of us knew what it meant.
Their father told my parents he wished he could ‘counter-demand these stupid instructions’. He cried and we cried. But he saved our lives, when he gave us money to escape.
In 1939, we got visas for Pennsylvania, America. My father packed our belongings in a shipping crate. Instead, the crate was sent to Hamburg, where our items were auctioned off. We bought boat tickets to travel to the USA, via the UK, for August 30. But my foster grandmother persuaded us to leave on Saturday.
We took the last train out of Berlin four days before the war. We arrived in London on August 27, 1939, and ended up staying here.
But our belongings were stolen when the train stopped at the border between Germany and Holland. We were told to come off with our papers and leave our luggage on. We watched as the train reversed back into Germany. I remember standing on the cold concrete, hungry and thirsty, clutching Teddy. We lost everything again.
We arrived penniless refugees in the UK. During the Blitz we slept in Tottenham Court Road Underground station for eight months.
My brother and I worked hard, both getting scholarships to Oxford University. I became a solicitor. I’ve been married to my wife – also a refugee from Breslau – for 35 years and we have five children, 12 grandchildren and a number of great-grandchildren. My twin brother died last year. We did everything together.”
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