Kindertransport: A Happy Ending?

In early 1939, at age eleven, the author was sent from her native Stuttgart, Germany, on a Children's Transport to England, where she re mained for the next six years, living with strangers. Kindertransport, her autobiography, was conceived a-s a book for y oung adults at the 50th reunion in London in June 1989. This paper deals with historical as well as emotional aspects of this part of the Holocaust. It points out the existence of intolerance in today's world, and asks whether a repetition of the atro cities of the thirties and forties can be prevented, both in our time and in the future. Holocaust Stories and Happy Endings When I was a little girl, I always made my mother change the end of a fairy tale if it didn't have a happy ending. Holocaust stories are not fairy tales and, unfortunately, most don't have happy end ings. My particular story, Kindertransport (Children's Transport), does have a happy ending, I hope. Now, let us consider, for a moment, some good news and some bad news. First, I would call the recent opening of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in our nation's capital "good news." (Incidentally, I've been told that my book, Kindertransport, has made it into the museum's book store. Good news!) There seems to be an ever-increasing awareness of discrimination in our public schools. Intolerance is out. Understanding *Paper presented at the 28th Annual Con vention of the Association of Jewish Libraries, June 21, 1993, at a session entitled "Bridges Between the Genera tions: Sharing the Holocaust Experience." Merrick, NY is in-in most places. Good news. Chil dren as young as nine or ten are being taught about the Holocaust. We survivors are being invited to come and meet these kids and tell them of our experiences. Good news. Why are we being invited? Because we are the last remaining wit nesses, the living past. We are linked to the present and we are pointing to the future. And the bad news? I'm sure you all know, the neo-Nazis are alive and well, not only in Germany, but in these United States. In Hicksville, Long Island, not ten miles from where I live, the party has its own post office box. Little incidents happen: graf fiti-the writing on the wall; most citizens think little of it. At most, it's mere pranks. Jokes. Nothing to worry about. There was a time when many German Jews, my father included, held the same view. The horrors did not start full blown out of the head of Zeus. We expected then, as we do now, that our lives would follow a certain course. Then, as now, we expected that if things were good, they would stay good. If they were bad, we expected them to become bet ter-never, never, worse. This attitude cost many people their lives. It almost cost us ours. But mine is a story with a happy ending. My family and I survived. The Kindertransport Reunion My book, Kindertransport, was conceived at a reunion in London, England, in June 1989. The reunion was the brainchild of Bertha Leverton, herself a "kind" who lives in London. One day she found her self thinking: "It's fifty years since I came here with the Kindertransport-half a century. Someone really ought to do something." You can all guess who that someone turned out to be. Bertha advertised in Jewish publications all over the world, and, with the help of her sister in Israel, wound up having to hire a hall big enough to hold 2,000 people. I was one of 200 Americans at tending. I learned things about the Kin dertransport that I had never known: how it was organized, who organized it (Jews and Christians, including many Quakers). I learned that in the nine months between Kristallnacht and the first day of World War II, 10,000 children had been rescued, and that of these 10,000 children, 9,000 never saw their families again. I knew that I had to write my personal account of the Kindertransport, and that I had to address myself to children. I had to pass on what I knew to the younger generation, so that when they grow up they will know how to prevent such things from happening again-an awesome charge. But mine would be a story with a happy ending. I felt a great deal of urgency about my project. I still do. The Plot of Kindertransport At first glance, my story has a happy end ing. Briefly, it goes something like this: My father and his brother were owners of the Herold Verlag, a children's book pub lishing company in Stuttgart, which had been founded by my grandfather in 1872. It still exists, although my family no longer owns it. The Nazis stole it. My father was a veteran of World War I, having fought for the Kaiser and having been awarded a medal. Naturally, he said: "Nothing will happen to us. They can't do anything to me." Any American veteran might, justifiably, say the same under sim ilar circumstances. Both my parents came from well-assimilated families. We were more German, perhaps, than the Ger mans. I know some American Jewish families of whom the same might be said. But then began a gradual erosion of our "rights," termed "legal" by the Nuremberg Laws, and culminating on the night of No vember 9, 1938, now known as Kristall nacht. My father was taken out of his bed at night and forcibly taken to the Dachau concentration camp. Fortunately, my older Judaica Librarianship Vol. 8 No. 1-2 Spring 1993-Winter 1994 95 , Association of Jewish Libraries, 28th Annual Convention, New York City brother was by then in school in London, and so he was spared. My mother then made a decision on her own, and placed my name on the list for the Kindertransport. This was a hastily organized rescue operation, with hard won permission from the Nazis, to trans port as many children as possible from Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, and Poland, by train and ferry to England, to be taken care of there until it was safe to return them to their homes. English fami lies, as well as institutions, were recruited. An Act of Parliament was passed to help raise the needed funds. Much of the money came from ordinary, private Eng lish citizens. Permission was sought, and granted, from the Dutch government to allow the children to get off the trains in· Holland and embark on boats across the English Channel. The logistics must have been mind-boggling.