4 Aliyah
Just at that time it became known to me that the local Revisionist party was organising an illegal transport to Palestine. Here was my chance. I went to the person responsible for all arrangements, and registered with him, to put my name on the waiting list. Within two days I received notice to be ready on the next day to come to the organiser in order to settle payment and receive detailed instructions.
We were a group of eight young people, all refugees who were now in Antwerp and in a similar position to myself. We were to go in a big car, be smuggled across the French border, and from there a boat would take us to Palestine. After once again saying good-bye to my brothers, relatives and friends, I joined my group. We boarded the car, which was driven by a Belgian citizen, who was obviously not unfamiliar with this kind of "work". All my co-passengers were about the same age as me, and some of them I knew by sight. We were a very congenial group and became good friends.
Towards evening we neared a small border town, half of which was Belgian and the other half French. The driver stopped at a cafe on the Belgian side and told us to sit there and have a cup of coffee. We were to remain there until he had done some reconnoitring, after which he would return. He stayed away for about 2 hours, and we began to think that he had abandoned us in this godforsaken place. But, he returned, and told us that he had been across the border twice, without being asked for any papers, like so many of the villagers, who on Sundays walked across this border in order to visit family and friends. So he told us, to do the same: split up into twos, and just walk slowly, strolling across to the other side. He would take his car across officially and wait for us a few hundred metres on the other side.
We all left our small rucksacks and hold-alls in his car and did as we were told. To our amazement there was no hitch whatsoever: we just calmly walked across the border and saw him waiting for us a few hundred meters ahead. We once again piled into the car and drove southwards, arriving in Paris at 5 a.m. Here he dropped us at a cafe and told us to wait until someone from the organisation came to lead us further. Apparently this man had done the run several times before. and this was the usual meeting place. After a while, a person appeared and asked us to follow him. We walked to a small nearby hotel, where we were told to stay in our rooms until further arrangements could be made. The hotel was a very low-grade one, but we were not too bothered, as we thought it would only be a day or two until we could leave. How wrong we were! We had to stay in this place for 10 days. We could not leave the house during the day, as the police were checking for illegal refugees, so we only went out after dark for very short trips to buy some food and supplies for the next day.
Finally, after 10 days we travelled to Marseilles, where we were to board a ship. The plan was a simple one. We were to buy tickets on a pleasure boat, which was making trips around the Marseilles harbour. Some of the crews on these boats were bribed to take us to our ship, which was docked outside French waters. In the evening we bought our tickets; and after some cruising around in the dark, we were taken to our ship. When everyone had arrived, we were only 80 people. On board, we were told why we had been kept waiting so long. A group of 180 people, coming from Switzerland, were to join us. Unfortunately, this group did not make it; they were turned back. This ship was meant to take about 250 people and naturally 80 of us could not possibly bear the cost of the passage. So our organisers communicated with a group who were waiting in Romania, and they would join us in Constanza.
We finally left the shores of France on June 10th 1939. Our ship. the "Parita", was a medium-sized cargo boat which had been converted to take passengers. It seemed fairly seaworthy, and was adequate for our needs for the 10 days we expected to be on it. We were steaming at a steady speed towards Constanza. The mood on the ship was a happy one. We were all young people, in high spirits, full of hopes and expectations.
Immediately after arriving in Constanza, workmen and carpenters came on board, busying themselves with erecting bunkers in the lower decks and the bottom of the ship. When we inquired what was going on, we were told, that instead of the 180 people who were originally going to join us, we were now taking an additional 750 people on board! Amongst them were a number of elderly people, invalids and even babies! When we saw all this, our spirits dropped. We were crowded like sardines in a box. It was also difficult to organise such a large number of people in such a limited space. However, we cheered ourselves with the thought that in about a week we would arrive at our destination, and that would make all the discomfort worthwhile.
Our first disappointment occurred the day after leaving Constanza. The sacks of bread we had been given by the Romanians were full of mouldy bread, so that we had virtually no food! Furthermore, we were informed that this boat would not take us all the way to Palestine. (The reason for this was that the organisers hoped to use it for several illegal runs). We were to meet 4 small sailing boats in the vicinity of Cyprus. Here we would transfer to them and be taken to our destination. We arrived at the appointed "meeting place" and waited in vain. No boats arrived. Meanwhile our supply of anything edible ran out, and we were compelled to call at some small ports to buy or beg for food. We shuttled between Smyrna, Rhodes and other ports in the area, always returning to our expected meeting place, but all in vain - the sailing boats never came.
Conditions were getting very difficult; elderly people and young children were falling ill, and with only two doctors to 850 people, and no medicine and virtually no food, time was running out, and so was our patience. We organised a group of about 100, who were prepared to take command of the ship and attempt to reach our destination. With this in mind, we negotiated with the officers and crew to help us, and instruct us how to run the ship. For payment, most of them agreed. All but the captain and three officers were prepared to help us. Most of the crew were Greek, and their main concern was to get back home in good health!
Having received the acceptance of most of them, we then locked up the few senior officers together with the organisers of the transport who, for financial reasons, were not willing to sacrifice the ship. However, we were concerned with the lives and health of 850 people who all wanted to go to Palestine in the shortest time. So some of us went to work to learn the basics of running the ship. After a few more days of training we released the officers and organisers, and together with the crew put them into lifeboats, which they rowed towards a quiet spot on the Palestinian coast. Here they could land undetected. Thereafter we directed the ship towards the coast, and with full steam ahead ran it deep into the sand of the Tel-Aviv beach!
It was the 22nd August 1939, a Friday night. We had been over 10 weeks at sea! Although we had given all our money and valuables to the crew, we all thought at that moment, that we were the richest and luckiest people alive. We had made it - we had come home. All the discomfort and tribulations of this journey seemed worthwhile. At that point, some of our younger people jumped into the water, trying to get ashore, but they were caught by the British. We hoisted a blue and white flag and, sure enough, the British arrived and tried to pull us back into the sea. But all their attempts failed. All tows and chains broke. We stuck fast in the sand. Before actually landing, we had smashed all the engines with sledgehammers, so that there was no way the British could refloat the ship, which we knew they would try. Finally they gave up the attempt and ordered everyone to take their belongings, of which there were precious few, and took us ashore into the courtyard of the "Dan" Hotel, (a very much smaller and simpler version than today's!).
As it was Shabbat, hundreds of Tel-Avivians came to greet us, and although they were not allowed to mix with, or even come near us, the joy on both sides was overwhelming. Soon we were given more food than was good for us. After nearly starving for so many weeks, the food was too rich for many, and quite a number of us fell ill. Meanwhile the British authorities had organised transport and we were taken to Sarafand, (Z'rifin), a military camp, where we were interned. After registration we were given some emergency clothing, had medical checks and some proper food!
On September 3rd 1939, Britain declared war against Germany. We had been at this camp for just 10 days, but owing to the war, an amnesty was declared and everyone was freed. Jewish Agency officials arrived and issued each one of us with a “Te'udat Oleh”. By this act, we had at last become “legal” citizens.
Just at that time it became known to me that the local Revisionist party was organising an illegal transport to Palestine. Here was my chance. I went to the person responsible for all arrangements, and registered with him, to put my name on the waiting list. Within two days I received notice to be ready on the next day to come to the organiser in order to settle payment and receive detailed instructions.
We were a group of eight young people, all refugees who were now in Antwerp and in a similar position to myself. We were to go in a big car, be smuggled across the French border, and from there a boat would take us to Palestine. After once again saying good-bye to my brothers, relatives and friends, I joined my group. We boarded the car, which was driven by a Belgian citizen, who was obviously not unfamiliar with this kind of "work". All my co-passengers were about the same age as me, and some of them I knew by sight. We were a very congenial group and became good friends.
Towards evening we neared a small border town, half of which was Belgian and the other half French. The driver stopped at a cafe on the Belgian side and told us to sit there and have a cup of coffee. We were to remain there until he had done some reconnoitring, after which he would return. He stayed away for about 2 hours, and we began to think that he had abandoned us in this godforsaken place. But, he returned, and told us that he had been across the border twice, without being asked for any papers, like so many of the villagers, who on Sundays walked across this border in order to visit family and friends. So he told us, to do the same: split up into twos, and just walk slowly, strolling across to the other side. He would take his car across officially and wait for us a few hundred metres on the other side.
We all left our small rucksacks and hold-alls in his car and did as we were told. To our amazement there was no hitch whatsoever: we just calmly walked across the border and saw him waiting for us a few hundred meters ahead. We once again piled into the car and drove southwards, arriving in Paris at 5 a.m. Here he dropped us at a cafe and told us to wait until someone from the organisation came to lead us further. Apparently this man had done the run several times before. and this was the usual meeting place. After a while, a person appeared and asked us to follow him. We walked to a small nearby hotel, where we were told to stay in our rooms until further arrangements could be made. The hotel was a very low-grade one, but we were not too bothered, as we thought it would only be a day or two until we could leave. How wrong we were! We had to stay in this place for 10 days. We could not leave the house during the day, as the police were checking for illegal refugees, so we only went out after dark for very short trips to buy some food and supplies for the next day.
Finally, after 10 days we travelled to Marseilles, where we were to board a ship. The plan was a simple one. We were to buy tickets on a pleasure boat, which was making trips around the Marseilles harbour. Some of the crews on these boats were bribed to take us to our ship, which was docked outside French waters. In the evening we bought our tickets; and after some cruising around in the dark, we were taken to our ship. When everyone had arrived, we were only 80 people. On board, we were told why we had been kept waiting so long. A group of 180 people, coming from Switzerland, were to join us. Unfortunately, this group did not make it; they were turned back. This ship was meant to take about 250 people and naturally 80 of us could not possibly bear the cost of the passage. So our organisers communicated with a group who were waiting in Romania, and they would join us in Constanza.
We finally left the shores of France on June 10th 1939. Our ship. the "Parita", was a medium-sized cargo boat which had been converted to take passengers. It seemed fairly seaworthy, and was adequate for our needs for the 10 days we expected to be on it. We were steaming at a steady speed towards Constanza. The mood on the ship was a happy one. We were all young people, in high spirits, full of hopes and expectations.
Immediately after arriving in Constanza, workmen and carpenters came on board, busying themselves with erecting bunkers in the lower decks and the bottom of the ship. When we inquired what was going on, we were told, that instead of the 180 people who were originally going to join us, we were now taking an additional 750 people on board! Amongst them were a number of elderly people, invalids and even babies! When we saw all this, our spirits dropped. We were crowded like sardines in a box. It was also difficult to organise such a large number of people in such a limited space. However, we cheered ourselves with the thought that in about a week we would arrive at our destination, and that would make all the discomfort worthwhile.
Our first disappointment occurred the day after leaving Constanza. The sacks of bread we had been given by the Romanians were full of mouldy bread, so that we had virtually no food! Furthermore, we were informed that this boat would not take us all the way to Palestine. (The reason for this was that the organisers hoped to use it for several illegal runs). We were to meet 4 small sailing boats in the vicinity of Cyprus. Here we would transfer to them and be taken to our destination. We arrived at the appointed "meeting place" and waited in vain. No boats arrived. Meanwhile our supply of anything edible ran out, and we were compelled to call at some small ports to buy or beg for food. We shuttled between Smyrna, Rhodes and other ports in the area, always returning to our expected meeting place, but all in vain - the sailing boats never came.
Conditions were getting very difficult; elderly people and young children were falling ill, and with only two doctors to 850 people, and no medicine and virtually no food, time was running out, and so was our patience. We organised a group of about 100, who were prepared to take command of the ship and attempt to reach our destination. With this in mind, we negotiated with the officers and crew to help us, and instruct us how to run the ship. For payment, most of them agreed. All but the captain and three officers were prepared to help us. Most of the crew were Greek, and their main concern was to get back home in good health!
Having received the acceptance of most of them, we then locked up the few senior officers together with the organisers of the transport who, for financial reasons, were not willing to sacrifice the ship. However, we were concerned with the lives and health of 850 people who all wanted to go to Palestine in the shortest time. So some of us went to work to learn the basics of running the ship. After a few more days of training we released the officers and organisers, and together with the crew put them into lifeboats, which they rowed towards a quiet spot on the Palestinian coast. Here they could land undetected. Thereafter we directed the ship towards the coast, and with full steam ahead ran it deep into the sand of the Tel-Aviv beach!
It was the 22nd August 1939, a Friday night. We had been over 10 weeks at sea! Although we had given all our money and valuables to the crew, we all thought at that moment, that we were the richest and luckiest people alive. We had made it - we had come home. All the discomfort and tribulations of this journey seemed worthwhile. At that point, some of our younger people jumped into the water, trying to get ashore, but they were caught by the British. We hoisted a blue and white flag and, sure enough, the British arrived and tried to pull us back into the sea. But all their attempts failed. All tows and chains broke. We stuck fast in the sand. Before actually landing, we had smashed all the engines with sledgehammers, so that there was no way the British could refloat the ship, which we knew they would try. Finally they gave up the attempt and ordered everyone to take their belongings, of which there were precious few, and took us ashore into the courtyard of the "Dan" Hotel, (a very much smaller and simpler version than today's!).
As it was Shabbat, hundreds of Tel-Avivians came to greet us, and although they were not allowed to mix with, or even come near us, the joy on both sides was overwhelming. Soon we were given more food than was good for us. After nearly starving for so many weeks, the food was too rich for many, and quite a number of us fell ill. Meanwhile the British authorities had organised transport and we were taken to Sarafand, (Z'rifin), a military camp, where we were interned. After registration we were given some emergency clothing, had medical checks and some proper food!
On September 3rd 1939, Britain declared war against Germany. We had been at this camp for just 10 days, but owing to the war, an amnesty was declared and everyone was freed. Jewish Agency officials arrived and issued each one of us with a “Te'udat Oleh”. By this act, we had at last become “legal” citizens.
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