Daniel Herman – “The longest half hour of my mother’s life”

In May 1939 members of the local Zionist organization in Koenigsberg, east Germany, came to my parents’ home late at night and told my father than he had to leave immediately or the Nazis would come to take him the next day. Travel arrangements were made quickly, but only for my father as, although my parents had visas and affidavits for themselves they had not managed to find anyone prepared to take me – a three-year-old boy. The men from the organisation assured my parents that they would do everything to obtain the necessary papers for me but stressed that it was imperative for my father to leave immediately.

My mother had already written letters to refugee and Zionist organisations, churches, Quaker movements – tens of letters all over the world – but up until then she had had no positive response. In July 1939 she heard from the Society of Friends in Manchester that an old acquaintance of the family – Mrs Schaefer – had been to translate letters from Germany and by chance had read the letter sent by my mother. Mrs Schaefer persuaded them to find a home for me and the result was that an affidavit was granted which in turn allowed us to apply for a visa enabling us to come to England. Only now could the passport be sent to the British Embassy in Berlin for the coveted visa stamp. The passport was despatched and we awaited its return. By the beginning of August it had not been sent back and everybody knew that time was running out. My mother packed a bag for me and a small suitcase and we set off on the long and precarious journey through the Polish Corridor, arriving in Berlin in mid-August. She had friends living in the city and we stayed with them overnight. Early the next morning I was left with the friends and my mother went to the British Embassy. The scenes outside were chaotic with hundreds of people all waiting and wanting some form of help. An official announced to the crowd that he was very sorry but diplomatic relations between Great Britain and Germany were to cease; the Embassy had no option but to close its doors immediately. With that, the official backed into the building and attempted to close the great doors. My mother threw herself against the doors and managed to persuade the officials at least to return her passport, with or without the visa. She was pulled inside and told to wait on a seat. She remembered that as the longest half hour of her life. The official returned with the passport stamped with the visa – it had already been processed and was waiting ready to be sent to her in Koenigsberg!

We continued our journey to England. I lost my teddy bear overboard on the sea journey but we arrived safely on 2 September 1939. We were reunited with my father and then I went to live with a wonderful Quaker family in Broadbottom, Cheshire, for a year.

Many, many thanks.

Daniel Herman
Altrincham, Cheshire