大象传媒

My parents were German and they came to live in England in the 1920s because the firm my father worked for had an office in London. I was born in 1931 in North Harrow in London a few years after my sister. As a family we spoke mainly in English although I could understand German.
My father was arrested the day before war broke out- I was eight years old and it didn't really register. A few months later my mother was arrested. My father and mother were separated throughout this time- both were interned on the Isle of Man but my father was soon sent to Canada whereas my mother was kept on the island throughout the war.
I think they must have given some advance thought to this eventuality because my sister and I were looked after by friends of the family in London.
After two or three months my sister and I were sent to the Isle of Man. The night before, London was bombed and we spent a lot of the night underneath the table. The next day we went on a train to Liverpool - this was a special transport arranged for children. I remember going on a ship from Liverpool and we all had a suitcase and a gasmask box hung from our neck. We knew we were going to where our mother was, and we were excited about that.
We were brought to Port Erin by a little train and we met our mother. I suppose the reunion must have been emotional- it surely was for my mother- but at that age as a child I honestly can't remember it in any detail.
We stayed together at Golf Links Hotel. We had two rooms- the small one to the front and a larger one to the back. The first night we stayed there i wss sleeping alone in the front room and woke up in the middle of the night to a terrible storm and I looked out through the window and saw waves and water and everything was terrible and I was scared to death. I ran out of my room to where my mother was sleeping with my sister and I crawled into her bed. That was my first night on the Isle of Man!
We then were moved to the Belle Vue Hotel and we had a lovely room for the 3 of us with a beautiful view over the sea. I now know there were several thousand women of all ages and backgrounds interned on the island. There were even german nazi supporters along with jews escaping the nazis - although the two were kept separated.
I was taught by German women internees- but I can't remember if we were taught in English or German. School was irregular anyway- it was all a bit chaotic. I loved it - playing on the beach, collecting shells, going fishing- climbing the cliffs- it was like being on holiday for us children. For my mother I think it must have been rather bad. We were allowed to write a letter once a week to my father on special writing paper- and I never knew quite what to say- but mummy insisted we wrote something.
For a short while we stayed at the Stanley Hotel but my mother made sure we moved fairly quickly to somewhere else because there were some women there she didnt think were suitable - my guess looking back, is that they were prostitutes. MY only direct memory is one evening there playing patience- and these other women were talking- and suddenly my mother dragged me and my sister out of the room and upstairs to bed. And the next day she told these women off.
Port Erin was surrounded with barbed wire and there were two checkpoints guarded by police women. One of them was Sergeant Pike. She was big and very strict. She never had a smile on her face and I dont think she knew how to laugh. We weren't allowed to go out of Port Erin without a permit. Even on our way to church on Sundays- which was for us was a catholic church halfway between Port Erin and Port St Mary- we had to have a police woman escort. She walked in front and we walked behind.
We were good friends with an English family living in Port Erin. We met every sunday on the way to church and I can still see her- its vivid today- walking down the church aisle to the front row wearing light blue tweed.
In 1944 - my father was able to come to the Isle of Man from Canada. We all met up in Collins Cafe on the promenade- and this was the first time my mother and us had seen him for 4 years. All I remember is feeling shy and thinking who is this man- I know it's my father but it felt like he was a stranger. We werent however allowed to stay together in the married camp-we went back to our hotel and our father I think must have stayed in one of the campa. Some days later we were told to pack our cases and get ready for the journey back to Germany. We travelled as a whole family- with my father- by boat to Liverpool, then by train to Scotland, and from Scotland by boat to Bergen in Norway- then down to Gothenburg, Stockholm, then to the Baltic port of Sassnitz.
Looking back now it must have been incredibly difficult for my parents- my father had no job, we had nothing, and here we were back in war-torn Germany. WE stayed with relatives until my father was able to rent us an appartment then he managed to get a job again with the same firm that had sent him to England back in the 30's.
After the war I finished school in West Germany, married and raised my own children. My father lived to the grand age of 95 and my mother was 90- they passed away in the 1980's.
I am telling this story on the 大象传媒 Bus in Port Erin. I love coming back here for holidays and this is the fifth time I have come back. The first thing I did when my husband died was to book a ticket and take a holiday here- it's as if part of my own life is here. Nothing significant, exciting or awful happened to me here- it just has nice memories for me. Although it was during the war- it was as if it was a holiday from war- and all seen through the eyes of a child.
Even today although I'm German by nationality and have lived there for years- I dont feel particularly German. I feel more English than German - but not fully English either. I think my history means I am always probably somewhere in between.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.