大象传媒

The Other Side of the Coin - Part One

Gunter Freundlich and Maria Davies

Gunter, Maria, my sister Chintah and Aunt Elizabeth circa 1937/8

1935-1937

My father, Gunter Finlay Freundlich, Came to England in February 1935 and stayed with his uncle Professor Herbert Freundlich who was lecturing at London University. Eventually he received a work permit and he started as a pianist at Madam Rambert Ballet School. Sometime in that year he met my mother, Maria Davies . Gunter lived in Wiesbaden, Germany. He had one brother and one sister. He was a musician having been classically (piano) trained but he started playing and composing more popular music ie jazz, film music and other light music. In 1937 Gunter joined a British band which toured Europe.

I have a number of letters which my mother thought were from 1935 鈥� 36. They were written from Holland.

At some stage Maria went back to England on her own and Gunter wrote the letters referred to above. It is possible that Maria was expecting a child. Gunter鈥檚 letters contain frantic pleas to Maria 鈥榯o have the baby鈥欌�︹��.鈥檇on鈥檛 go to that doctor and don鈥檛 take the poison鈥�. Neither my sister or me knew about this possible pregnancy. (My sister was born in November 1937 and the indications from the letters are that the situation described above happened before my sister was conceived.)

Gunter and Maria must have been reunited sometime in late 1936 or early 1937. From this time they were most likely together until June 1938. My sister, Chintah Davies was born in Vienna on 16th November 1937.

The next batch of letters I have date from June 1938 to July August 1938. Gunter and Maria were together again until May 1940. Only one of these letters, the first one, is dated properly. Bearing in mind that the pace towards the Second World War was rapidly increasing plus Gunter鈥檚 family situation, it might have been for reasons of security **.

These letters show the efforts being made by Gunter in order to travel to England to be re-united with Maria. He was expecting to have to do two months military service with the army and was trying to get round this by claiming special circumstances of having a partner who had had his child. His letters speak of the need to register with the police and he seemed to put this off for some time. Eventually he registered and obtained permission to have temporary leave to make the journey. It seems likely that he travelled to England in August 1938.

There are no letters from the next period of time, 1938 to 1940 so it is assumed that they were together for the time. I remember my mother telling me that they toured Europe again. It must have been a tense time because it is probable that Gunter did not attempt to return to Germany to undertake the two months military service. The general situation was also deteriorating as the Second World War approached. I was born in Antwerp in Belgium on October 16th 1939.

The last two letters he wrote before travelling to England are reproduced below:-

**
The Freundlich family was well established in Wiesbaden but were philosophically opposed to facism. There was also the problem of a jewish connection on my father鈥檚 mother鈥檚 side. Johanna Freundlich鈥檚 maiden name was Binseil and was partly jewish. Several of Gunter鈥檚 immediate family had already made their way to England, his brother Winifried and his Uncle Herbert. The family had also produced copies of birth certificates and marriage certificates of the Freundlich family while trying to play down the Binseil connection.

My father鈥檚 Grand-father, Fredrich Philip Ernest Freundlich was a shipping agent who worked for some time in Liverpool where he met and married Ellen Elizabeth Finlayson. Subsequent descendants of Fredrick took the middle name of Finlay. I have photocopies of these certificates which go back to 1827.

55
Wiesbaden-Birbricher
Rathaustrasse - 54

Monday

My Darling Coocky, nothing for me,

You have been very naughty again. You didn't write your letter to me last week. Please, my baby, don't ever let me wait so terribly long again. Just now I need letters more than anything. Today I hope to get my papers ready at last. So, tomorrow or the day I will see about my service about my service.
I am going full force ahead with my work. I want to get the whole thing finished within a few days in case I can start up my military service at once. Of course I wish they wouldn't take me but I am afraid they will. And if I have to do at all it's better that I do right now instead of putting it off. It would only mean that I would have to leave you again for two months and I'd rather get it over and done with.
I hope the Home Office is going to let Ernest know the conditions attached to the permit very soon. Then we can plan, my baby. I've calmed down completely now and can look at the matter coolly. I think everything can be arranged very satisfactorily. Holland is sure to be the ideal place and I think I might be able to get some occasional work there in between. In any case, I shall always be working for Ernest even while I am away, and he will have to pay for my work. So there remains only one regrettable fact , namely, that we shan't be able to settle down for the near future. I have not given up hope that I will get a regular permits in the end. We only have to wait for a good opportunity to prove my indispensability and my immaculate character. Somehow our it makes me feel a little proud to be regarded undesirable. Somebody seems to attach more importance to my personality than I do myself. Still all same, I'd much rather they didn't attach any importance to me .
Through this rush, I am afraid the end of the music won't be so good. But it cannot be helped. If I cannot absolve my a military service now I shall be able to work it over again and improve it. I am wondering if you'll like the music. It matters more to me what you think than, for instance, what Ernest thinks. Your natural, intuitive criticism discovers always if something is worth anything or not. Where somebody else has to rely on his knowledge and comparison with other pieces of Arts, in other words, his criticism should be largely of a formal character, you simply listen and something within you either responds or doesn't. If it does it is a sure sign that the particular work of art is sincere, i.e. has something to say. I envy you for that, my angel. Again and again I find myself falling for something that shows extreme mastering of all technical difficulties, where the creators seems be above every doubt about the technique of his work, and only after some time I begin to discover that the whole thing is just brilliant, but has nothing to say. I think it is a kind of inferiority complex with me. When I write anything, I am always full of doubts about my work, so often I can't get on, get stuck.Then again, I cannot hear what I have just have written and I want to throw the damn thing away. And then, when I hear somebody else's work and where I feel with what ease the thing was created, I get terribly impressed. And, still, as I a said above, very often these works don't mean a thing. These composers have an extreme ability to master the techniques. But that is near nearly always all. Sometimes, particularly with this thing I'm just working on, I get the feeling of mastering the technique. It is so tempting, but so dangerous. If one gets stuck in it one is finished, already dated. You are my guarding angel there, my baby. If you said about any of my bits of work that it didn't impress you, I should know that it is no good. When we together again, you will have to stand by and help me, my Dufthaisen.
In a few days, we will know when we'll be together again. Please, angel, don't forget to enquire all about the papers necessary for the marriage. And get the necessary papers at once. Harold will be able to help you there.
Now, my angel. I kiss you and I hug you and suss you, and talk to you.

Gunter
Wiesbaden-Biebricher 21
Rathausstrasse 54
1938
Saturday
My Baby,

At last I've got all my papers in order. I didn't waste any time and after I got the additional two-month leave I went straight to the Passport Office, got my passport prolonged. From there I went to the station and to Frankfurt and got the English visa. All I need now is a transit visa through Belgium. But I can get that either in Cologne or at the frontier. I have just written to Ernest and told him that I want to come next week.
Maybe I shan't even wait for his answer. I'm so restless here now. I can't stick it any longer. I feel like getting on a train tonight. Where are you, my angel? I hope to hear from you in the next post tomorrow morning. I'm so tired of waiting for letters and writing and writing and still so much unsaid. I've simply got to come over now.
I can't write any more now. I want to talk to you, talk to you, to sleep, suss you, have you, my Coocky.

Gunter
There is a group over thirty letters that Gunter wrote from Internment Camps in the Pyranees, Spain and Italy, covering the years 1940-1947.

After two years of touring with the British band he found himself in Antwerp.
Sometime in early May 1940 there was an air raid on Antwerp that woke Gunter and Maria up. I think that this event made my mother realised that she had to get back to England. She left for England on or about the 7th May and became one of thousands of other refugees making the journey from Antwerp to Ostend. I have a photocopy from The Daily Mirror of 18th May 1940 under the headline: 鈥淭he Army of the Homeless鈥�. There is a picture showing my mother with my sister and me.

On May 10th Gunter was picked up and interned and deported to France. It is not clear who picked him up or why he was taken to France. If the Germans had picked him up he would surely have been taken back there. Once in France, Gunter was then interned in the camp of St Cyprien in the Pyrenees.
The first news that my mother received of his fate was a postcard received from the Red Cross, Geneve which informed her of his whereabouts dated 3rd September 1940:-

The postcard was addressed to Miss Marion Davies who was my mother. She preferred to be known as Maria

The postcard was written in German.

Translation:
Please contact us as soon as possible. Your husband is at Camp
St Cyprien, Ilot II, house J 20,Pyranees Orientales, France . We
ready to forward futher your communications.

There is a group over thirty letters that Gunter wrote from Internment Camps in the Pyranees, Spain and Italy, covering the years 1940-1947.

Maria received the first of many letters from Gunter in his internment in December 1940. This is the first one she received:

15 Blomfield Road Camp De Gurs
Maida Vale Casses Pyr.
London Plot A, Bar 6
W9 France

Dec 4th 1940

Darling One

It is now one week that I got your letter, I've read it over so many times. I feel like writing all day long, because I want to talk you. I only hope that you don't wait for my answers till you write again, that would mean months and months of waiting. There is so terribly much to tell you, my baby. It is almost useless to try and write it down, I wrote to you on 20th November, a letter via Red Cross and a postcard directly on December 2nd. It is so terrible to think that it will be weeks, perhaps months until his letter gets into your hands. But one must be patient. One day it will be over. We will sit together and talk and laugh and be so happy. I tried to imagine the moment when I'll knock on some door somewhere in London and a few seconds later you'll be in my arms.
I wonder if you have been evacuated by now? Thank goodness Maida Vale seems fairly safe. Every day we read about those terrible bombardments. In the meantime we had dinner ie water with a few peas on it. It is bitter cold weather and we sit around the stove all day. Sometimes we play skat or Bridge, read an occasional paper or simply chat away mostly reminiscences of the past.
On the stove there is always a variety of old tin cans and chestnuts and at least once an hour somebody starts a big row. One day is like another, getting up about 7.30 or 8.00 if we have wood for the stove otherwise later. At 10 o'clock coffee, between 10 and 11 we receive the daily rations of bread. The great event about 12 o'clock soup after which we eat up our bread, then follows endless afternoon, with one or two English lessons. Soup again about 6 o'clock, talking or playing cards to till 10 or 12 o'clock according to the wood supply. Then we creep into our straw. Thank goodness I sleep well. In the previous camp we were tortured by fleas which gave us many sleepless nights. The climate here is very good when it is not raining. It is very cold at night and it's so warm and sits in the open-air.
Camp life is very monotonous we have one hope, to be divided up into working companies, with better food and more freedom etc. But I don't believe in anything. If the change comes all the better if not well it's all right with me. I'm just waiting for the one day when all be over, my Raschen.

Keep fit and strong and safe. I wonder what the overcareful Uncle H. has done with the money he promised to send. If he had simply put a few notes in an envelope as other people to you, I would have some money by now . But apparently he has put the matter into the hands of the Red Cross and that takes ages. Well, patience, don't forget to let me know all about your life, how you manage, all about the bairns and please send me some snap if possible. Ask Kiwi to write to me if he can, I never expected it you would be able to send the things I asked you to send.
My first card to Aunt Elizabeth was written before I knew about the armistice, I can manage, my baby if only you were strong. That's why I was especially happy about your letter, because it gave me the impression that you were very brave, I am so proud of you, my only one, when I hear others talking about their wives, making jokes I just think of you am very still. By the way, what happened to Albert? Have you seen any of our friends yet? Kenny, John Diana etc. Grace writes very sweet letters, I ask her to send some money and a food parcel. I hope this appeal will show results soon. I would like to go on writing all day just as if I were talking to you, I shall write again in a few days, perhaps tomorrow even.
I am so confident now the future can only bring happen it's a happier life and it will. Write to me as often as possible. I love you up and I kiss you and our little ones and see you all before me. Love to everybody.

Gunter

PS
Jacques wrote (August) that he was trying to send some underwear etc now that the postal service to Belgium has resumed. Maybe I'll get the promised parcel soon, perhaps an Xmas present.
PSS
5th Dec.

Last night's an airmail letter from London and dated November 13th arrived. It took only three weeks to get here. Please, darling, send your next letter by air if possible. As soon as I have money myself I shall write by air too.

I love you.

Gunter

Please see The Other Side of the Coin Part Two for the remainder of this article.

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