大象传媒

Hamburg Main Railway Station

Childrens Transport to England on Platform 4

I was lucky, I had been included in a Children鈥檚 Transport from Hamburg. Parents were not allowed on the platform, they had been told they must go home as soon as the children are assembled outside the station. Please to co-operate.

Miss Edith Rosenthal, the Matron of the Orphanage, had seen us off. She had arranged my place on the transport. Most of our children were boarders at the orphanage, including myself, enabling us to attend Jewish schools in Hamburg. They had been excluded from the schools of their hometown or because of some unpleasantness of sorts. I had attended the Jewish Fashion College in Hamburg.

We had arrived too early at the Railway Station.

Miss Rosenthal said, 鈥淐hildren, I am sorry, I have to go. Have a good journey. Do write when you get there. God bless you, God bless you all. Here is your Helper.鈥� She handed us over to an elderly lady, giving her the list with our names.

The lady was all dressed in grey, a sort of travelling costume, with a pink straw hat. She studied the list, then counted us.

She approached me, 鈥淲ill you look after these two.鈥� She handed me Suzi, aged 4 , and Morris, aged 5. 鈥淚 shall take the other ones. Stay on the pavement. Do be quiet鈥�. She clapped her hands. I thought, I bet she is a school teacher. Once again she consulted her wrist watch. She clapped her hands again, 鈥淚t is time, come along.鈥�

We were marched through the Station Hall. I noticed a large, white sign: CHILDRENS TRANSPORT TO ENGLAND PLATFORM 4.

Down the steps we went, and up again, Suzi clutching my hand and Morris hanging on to the belt of my coat. I had to carry my suitcase, it was so heavy. I had always admired this suitcase, made of crocodile skin. It belonged to mother. It was the wrong choice to take. They had put a long table on the platform. It had several large cardboard boxes on it, showing the Alphabet in large letters. Our helper handed over the list, one lady searched through the list whilst the other one rummaged in the boxes for our labels. She called our names, we were given a tag to hang around our neck. 鈥淵ou must never, never take this off, this is important, is has your number on it!鈥� I noticed my surname starting with an extra large initial.

Packaged like a parcel. Yes, we were packaged like parcels, a long line of children waiting patiently for the train. There was a Helper with a baby in her arms, it could not have been more than a year old. The Helper struggled with a laundry basket, there seemed to be nappies in it, what a baby carriage! Who would send such a small child away? Perhaps it went for adoption.

The train arrived. They shooed us into the compartments, these were single ones for about eight people. I thought, that will make it difficult for them to supervise the children. I had not seen many helpers.

Morris, Suzi and I were joined by three more children, an older boy and a girl and boy who I thought looked about seven or eight. The Helper picked up my label, read it, and said, 鈥淪ylvia, you are in charge. Good luck!鈥� and then she went, presumably to the next compartment, along the corridor.

The older boy, named Helmut, helped me to put the luggage into the overhead nets, the ones used for hand luggage.

A slight squabble, who can have the window seats?

鈥淪it down and be quiet, here you can all have a sweet.鈥� My little go-away present from the Domestic Science students at orphanage came in useful. It worked, but for how long?

Finally the train left. I introduced the children to each other. 鈥淭his is Suzi鈥his is Morris鈥elmut, how old are you?鈥� 鈥淭welve last May鈥�. 鈥溾�漌hat is your name?鈥� 鈥淟isolette.鈥� 鈥淎nd yours?鈥� 鈥淩euben鈥�.

The train started to gather speed.

After a while a lady came around, offering drinks, 鈥淧op or milk?鈥�

鈥淒o we have to pay?鈥� asked Helmut.

鈥淣o, it鈥檚 free鈥�.

I was glad it was in bottles with a straw. No messy, spilling cups. She said 鈥淚f you have to go to the toilet, go with the older girl, we don鈥檛 want you getting lost.鈥�

For an Express train it seemed to move slowly, perhaps it was not an Express train.

鈥淟et鈥檚 have a sing-song鈥�, I said. I started.

Ri_Ra_Rutch
Wir Fahren In Der Kutch
Wir Fahren In Der Schnecken Post
Weil Sie Nur Einen Kreutzer Kost
Ri Ra Rutch

Ri Ra Roach
We travel in a coach
A coach as slow as a snail
This is a sorry tale
It only costs a penny
Go and tell you granny
Ri Ra Roach. [Very free translation by Sylvia.]

鈥淚 am not singing that, I鈥檓 not a baby鈥�, complained Helmut.

鈥淥f course not, you are there to help me.鈥� That seemed to satisfy the boy. Each of the children had a turn on my lap, up and down, right and left.

鈥淲hat is a Kreutzer鈥�, asked Suzi.

鈥淚n your grandmother鈥檚 time, a Pfennig was called a Kreutzer.鈥�

鈥淚 called her Oma鈥�, said Suzi. [Oma=Grandmother.]

鈥淚n your Oma鈥檚 time there were not many trains, people went by coach and horses. What other songs do you know?鈥�

Hoppe, Hoppe, Reiter
When er Faellt
Dann Schreit er
Faellt er in den Graben
Fressen ihn die Raben
Faellt er in den Sumpf
Macht der Reiter plumpf
Let the child fall between your legs.

Hoppe, hoppe, little man
Ride as well as you can
Don鈥檛 fall in the ditch
Because there lives the witch
Don鈥檛 fall in the brook
Because there live the rook
Who will eat you.

Peck, Peck, Peck [very free translation by Sylvia]

I was getting tired, giving the children turns on my knees.

鈥淟et鈥檚 count telegraph poles,鈥� the wires were dancing along the railway lines.
鈥淲hen we get to fifty, you all get a sweet.鈥� Bribery! 鈥淣ow we have a little rest.鈥�

The train stopped. I wondered why. I went along the corridor, to open the window on the door. After a while, I could fasten the leather strap, which regulated the aperture. I could see nothing 鈥� nothing to be alarmed about. I had heard that the SS stopped trains with refugees. Definitely no one there. When I returned to the compartment, Helmut said 鈥淥ne is not allowed use the loo unless the train is moving.鈥�

鈥淚 know that, it means not in a station, ugh, disgusting. Clever, aren鈥檛 we?鈥�

Helmut produced a mouth organ, he started to play Heiden Roeslein (the little red rose on the heath). I recognised the tune immediately, he played so well.

鈥淎ny of you know it?鈥�

鈥淲hat is it about?鈥� asked the children.

鈥淚t鈥檚 about a boy who wants to pick a pretty red rose which grows on the heath, a rose with thorns. The song is very famous.鈥� I had learnt it at school. My cousin Erica told me the song was about a Rape of a Virgin 鈥� I kept that to myself, naturally.

Liselotte said, 鈥淢y daddy and I visited my mummy in hospital, we took red roses. That鈥檚 why I have to go to another lady to look after me. When my mummy is better she will come and get me.鈥�

鈥淗elmut, you are very musical, you are very good!鈥�

鈥淚 would like to be a musician, but my father said, they are badly paid, there is no money in it.鈥�

A lady pushed back the door to our compartment. She carried a large basket with rolls: 鈥淓gg or cheese, one or two?鈥�

I replied, 鈥淪ix of egg and six of cheese please,鈥� thinking, one does not know when they will give us something else to eat.

Reuben called out, 鈥淚 want ham, I don鈥檛 like cheese!鈥�

The lady was shocked.

鈥淩euben, listen my lad, children eat what they get,鈥� said I.

By way of apology, 鈥淧lease excuse him, madam, Reuben comes from a 鈥楻eform鈥� family, he does not know any better.鈥� [Reform family 鈥� liberal Jews who don鈥檛 keep the dietary laws.]

鈥淎h, so鈥�, said the lady, still annoyed.

鈥淲e thank you, all of us. It is very kind of you.鈥�

鈥淭hank the Committee.鈥� She stomped out.

We were nearing the border, I recognised the names of the towns, having looked up the various routes of the trains. I did not know the names of the port of embarkation.

鈥淎ufmachen鈥�, an SS man screamed, throwing the door open. He entered with a civilian. It was a headcount. 鈥淔ive!鈥�

They looked at me. 鈥淵our name, Miss鈥�, called the SS man.

鈥淐an鈥檛 find her name on my list鈥�, said the civilian.

When they went out, I thought I heard the door give a click. I tried the door. It was locked.

Now I was frightened.

The transport was for children under seventeen years of age, I was seventeen years and four months. Surely they would send me back for those four months? Suddenly I realised, they must have thought I was a helper, they had a list with their names, an official list, with the stamped permissions.

Of course I was not on that list, I was a child! Stupidly I had tucked my label inside my blouse, I felt too grown up. Quickly I remedied it. Alright, I am a parcel, I am a child with a number.

The SS man and the civilian returned, the lock snapped back, they examined my label on my chest. They made a note of, asked to see my passport, then went out without a word.

God be thanked.

I had heard that sometimes people tried to smuggle themselves out, on a children鈥檚 transport. Perhaps the SS were searching for escapees.

God be thanked again.

Now we are over the border.

鈥淐hildren, we have left Germany. Do you know where we are going?鈥�

鈥淓ngland鈥�, they said in unison.

Helmut said, 鈥淢y little brother is in a town called Leeds. The lady said they would try to find me a family there, if they can. My father said we鈥檒l go to America, when our number comes up, he鈥檒l get us then.鈥� My father had said exactly the same. No one else knew where they were going, that included myself, all I had been told was London.

We were travelling through Holland, we were safe, they could not touch us here 鈥� no longer.

Helmut went through his repertoire, he was good on march music, it put us in a happy mood.

鈥淎nother song, please鈥�, begged the children. Reuben started with 鈥楬aenschen klein鈥�. They all knew that song.
This is the most unsuitable song 鈥� how can I stop it?
Sweets 鈥� all have a sweet! My usual remedy.

Haenschen klein geht allein in die weite Welt hinein, aber Mutter weinet sehr, hat ja nun kein Haenschen mehr, and so on.

Little Hans travels all alone into the big wide world. His mother is very upset, she cries and cries, no longer has she her little Hans鈥�

鈥淟isten to me, I know a story, a real true story, about a boy called Hans. He went alone, from his village in Denmark to the capital city, Copenhagen. He was a cobbler, who made beautiful shoes and dancing slippers. He made red ones for a girl, they were so good she could not stop dancing, once she had put the shoes on. He made golden ones for the princesses at the Royal Court (my invention), so everybody wanted his shoes. But this is not the reason Hans became so famous, he told wonderful stories, and there were crowds of people who came to listen to his stories. He became very, very famous. His name is Hans Anderson. His stories got translated into all languages, into books, every bookshop sells his books.

鈥淒o you know any of his stories?鈥�

And so I told them the story of the ugly duckling.

鈥淐an any of you speak a little English?鈥�

Helmut exclaimed, 鈥淚鈥檝e done two years at school!鈥�

鈥淲onderful. You鈥檒l be the teacher. Start with Good Morning, Good Evening, and How do you do.鈥�

I was dead tired and left them to it.

Not having slept properly for several nights, I noticed that I was becoming irritable. This will never do. The children also were becoming bored or tired, or both. 鈥淚 said, we鈥檒l soon be there, let鈥檚 have a little rest.鈥�

It was getting dark. Hoek of Holland. The train stopped, children assembling on the platform.

The Pink Hat arrived, she took charge of the smaller children, Helmut was to join the older boys. 鈥� You have been a great help, don鈥檛 give up your music, you have real talent.鈥� I gave him a hug 鈥� which he did not like very much.

鈥淕od bless.鈥� Pink Hat said to me, 鈥淵ou are good with children.鈥�

鈥淥h no, I sometimes helped out at the Orphanage, weekends.鈥� All I wanted now was sleep鈥o more kids, I hoped there would be no more kids.

The children were shooed up the gangway of the ship like sheep, 鈥淐ome along, come along, this way!鈥� In a dining hall we were given a mug of soup, some bread and a bar of chocolate. The bread was white and square, this caused a lot of comment. I had seen this kind of bread before at our home, we called it English Sandwich Bread.

I was shown to my cabin, to my surprise it was an outside one, with only two bunks. 鈥淭he upper one is yours鈥�. Father had warned me that sometimes one only gets a deck chair. The bed was made up, too. I was asleep in minutes.

I awoke early. Noiselessly I climbed down the ladder. An elderly lady was snoring in the lower bunk. I had never heard her coming in. Looking out of the porthole, the water was splashing gently against the sides of the ship, a pink reflection of the sunrise on the water. This is England, this is England.

Now we were waiting for our train to London, it was a long wait, they seemed to be sorting out something or other. We waited on a meadow near the railway station.

The children were divided by age, big boys are to play football, small ones to make a circle over there! Girls, hold hand, come along鈥 stood aside, I thought, 鈥淧lay your stupid games, get on with it.鈥� I was wondering what I would do in London, what sort of people had been kind enough to take me in.

Pink Hat brought to me a little girl, who was crying, sobbing.

鈥淟ook after Ilse鈥�, she took me aside, 鈥淪he鈥檒l have them all crying, take her for a walk.鈥�

Ilse鈥檚 little face, dirty as it was, was stained with tears.

I took my hanky out. 鈥淪pit, this will have to do, we have no water.鈥�

Ilse was so surprised, she stopped crying.

鈥淲hy were you crying?鈥� I asked.

鈥淚 want my Mutti (mama).鈥�

鈥淵ou can鈥檛 have your Mutti, she is not here.鈥�

鈥淭hat鈥檚 why I am crying.鈥�

I said, 鈥淚鈥檒l let you into a secret, I want my Mutti, too. I never said goodbye to her when I left, she was not at home. She had gone to visit Grandpa, because he was very ill, I want my Mutti too.鈥�

鈥淏ut you are a big girl, you are a lady.鈥�

鈥淭hat makes no difference.鈥�

So we sat down and comforted each other, Ilse on my lap.

鈥淟et me do your hair, you have lovely red hair, it鈥檚 all messy鈥nd knotty.鈥�

鈥淧romise not to pull it.鈥�

鈥淚鈥檒l try. Look, what a lot of daisies are here, we could make a daisy chain! If you鈥檒l pick them.鈥�

I opened my suitcase to take out my little silver fish, my little treasure, my needle cushion.

鈥淚 need a fine needle to make the holes, otherwise the stem brakes. My Mutti gave me the little fish.鈥�

We made a lovely daisy necklace.

Part 2 to follow. This is an extract from an unpublished book by Mrs Sylvia Hurst entitled 'Laugh or Cry. This was submitted by Liz Finnigan at Stanley Library on behalf or Mrs Hurst.

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