Showing posts with label Antwerp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Antwerp. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Escape
3 Escape
When I actually saw the plane, a KLM Dutch airliner, and boarded it, I think I was crying. The tension of the last 36 hours was just too much. But looking around at my fellow passengers and listening to their conversations, I realised that I was only one amongst many who were making their way to freedom, and everyone had a story to tell. On this plane were perhaps only half a dozen “genuine” travellers, all others were escaping from Eastern Europe. Nobody knew then the destiny that awaited the Jewish people, but all felt that they wanted to get as far away and as quickly as possible.
We landed in Amsterdam in the evening. When my turn came to be checked out, the immigration officer told me that I could not leave the airport since I had no visa. I argued that I did not want to stay in Holland, I wanted to go to Belgium, and showed him the visa to that country. Whereupon he pointed out that in order to go to the railway station, I would be on Dutch territory, and for that I needed a visa! I explained to him, as calmly as I could, that I needed to attend to an urgent family matter in Antwerp. Everything had been arranged in a hurry, and that is why I had overlooked the matter of a Dutch visa. He asked me to wait whilst he consulted his superior. After about a quarter of an hour, he returned, and with a big smile informed me, that he had managed to obtain a visa for 8 days for me. That would give me enough time, to enjoy a stay in his beautiful country. I thanked him profoundly, but explained that I could not possibly spare the time now, but hoped to return some time in the future!
By that time all other passengers had left, there was no bus or taxi available, and my train to Antwerp was leaving in less than an hour. I once again turned to the officer and asked him how I could get to the station. He told me to wait another few minutes until he finished his duty, and he would then take me personally to the station in his car. I
I was completely overwhelmed by his kindness - not only did he take me to the station, but he made sure that I had a seat and told the conductor of the train to assist me until we had crossed the Belgian border.
I must say, that throughout all these complicated formalities and all these hours of waiting in uncertainty, I was not really afraid. On the contrary, I was quite confident that I would reach my target, and, shortly after midnight, I arrived in Antwerp! Of course there was no-one awaiting me, as there had not been time or opportunity to let my brothers know of my “travel plans”. I said "my brothers" because, a few weeks earlier, Yoine had succeeded in crossing the German border in to Belgium, and was at that time staying with Philip. So I made my way on foot from the station to Philip's address, where I arrived in the early morning hours.
The concierge, who recognised me from a previous visit, (I visited Philip in 1936), let me in, and I went straight upstairs. As I came to the door, I heard them discussing whether I would succeed, and, as Philip knew that my passport expired that day, he didn't think that the chances were very great. I could not hold out any longer, so I just opened the door and said: “Here I am!”. This was all I managed to say, before we were all in each other's arms, full of excitement. It was 2 a.m., but we talked away the rest of that night.
Next day, relatives and friends came to welcome me - my arrival came as a surprise to all. Being in Belgium was wonderful, but what was I going to do there? A cousin, Yoine Licht, the son of Chaim Weisenberg [1], suggested that I learn diamond cutting, and he arranged for me to go to someone who was willing to teach me. I started the next day. I was put in a room with a diamond-cutting machine, and after watching my instructor for a few days, I started cutting the precious stones myself, naturally under his guidance. I made slow progress, but gained experience daily.
All went well, until, one day in April 1939, an inspector appeared, and caught me working without a work permit. Obviously I could not continue working in this place. But worse was to come. I received an order to leave the country as a punishment for working without a permit. I had no intention of waiting for deportation, so I looked around for a way out.
[1] In Poland, it was common practice for Jews to marry in a religious ceremony only, without any civil ceremony or formality. Consequently, the children of these marriages adopted the mother's maiden name.
When I actually saw the plane, a KLM Dutch airliner, and boarded it, I think I was crying. The tension of the last 36 hours was just too much. But looking around at my fellow passengers and listening to their conversations, I realised that I was only one amongst many who were making their way to freedom, and everyone had a story to tell. On this plane were perhaps only half a dozen “genuine” travellers, all others were escaping from Eastern Europe. Nobody knew then the destiny that awaited the Jewish people, but all felt that they wanted to get as far away and as quickly as possible.
We landed in Amsterdam in the evening. When my turn came to be checked out, the immigration officer told me that I could not leave the airport since I had no visa. I argued that I did not want to stay in Holland, I wanted to go to Belgium, and showed him the visa to that country. Whereupon he pointed out that in order to go to the railway station, I would be on Dutch territory, and for that I needed a visa! I explained to him, as calmly as I could, that I needed to attend to an urgent family matter in Antwerp. Everything had been arranged in a hurry, and that is why I had overlooked the matter of a Dutch visa. He asked me to wait whilst he consulted his superior. After about a quarter of an hour, he returned, and with a big smile informed me, that he had managed to obtain a visa for 8 days for me. That would give me enough time, to enjoy a stay in his beautiful country. I thanked him profoundly, but explained that I could not possibly spare the time now, but hoped to return some time in the future!
By that time all other passengers had left, there was no bus or taxi available, and my train to Antwerp was leaving in less than an hour. I once again turned to the officer and asked him how I could get to the station. He told me to wait another few minutes until he finished his duty, and he would then take me personally to the station in his car. I
I was completely overwhelmed by his kindness - not only did he take me to the station, but he made sure that I had a seat and told the conductor of the train to assist me until we had crossed the Belgian border.
I must say, that throughout all these complicated formalities and all these hours of waiting in uncertainty, I was not really afraid. On the contrary, I was quite confident that I would reach my target, and, shortly after midnight, I arrived in Antwerp! Of course there was no-one awaiting me, as there had not been time or opportunity to let my brothers know of my “travel plans”. I said "my brothers" because, a few weeks earlier, Yoine had succeeded in crossing the German border in to Belgium, and was at that time staying with Philip. So I made my way on foot from the station to Philip's address, where I arrived in the early morning hours.
The concierge, who recognised me from a previous visit, (I visited Philip in 1936), let me in, and I went straight upstairs. As I came to the door, I heard them discussing whether I would succeed, and, as Philip knew that my passport expired that day, he didn't think that the chances were very great. I could not hold out any longer, so I just opened the door and said: “Here I am!”. This was all I managed to say, before we were all in each other's arms, full of excitement. It was 2 a.m., but we talked away the rest of that night.
Next day, relatives and friends came to welcome me - my arrival came as a surprise to all. Being in Belgium was wonderful, but what was I going to do there? A cousin, Yoine Licht, the son of Chaim Weisenberg [1], suggested that I learn diamond cutting, and he arranged for me to go to someone who was willing to teach me. I started the next day. I was put in a room with a diamond-cutting machine, and after watching my instructor for a few days, I started cutting the precious stones myself, naturally under his guidance. I made slow progress, but gained experience daily.
All went well, until, one day in April 1939, an inspector appeared, and caught me working without a work permit. Obviously I could not continue working in this place. But worse was to come. I received an order to leave the country as a punishment for working without a permit. I had no intention of waiting for deportation, so I looked around for a way out.
[1] In Poland, it was common practice for Jews to marry in a religious ceremony only, without any civil ceremony or formality. Consequently, the children of these marriages adopted the mother's maiden name.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Repatriation to England
8 Repatriation To England
After the arrival of some officers and men from the service corps, we went through the formalities of registering our names, army numbers, etc., and, of course, the details of our captivity. We were then divided into groups, according to the regiments to which we belonged. After this, I asked in an interview with the commanding officer if it would be possible for me to stay a few days in Belgium to look for family which I had left there before the War. He was very understanding, and leave was granted for up to 10 days to give me ample time to find my relations. As we were all going to England via Belgium, I was given travel papers and a leave permit, as well as the address of the camp, in order to report back to my unit.
I arrived in Brussels, but where to go to find the whereabouts of my brothers Yoine and Philip? I went to the Jewish Community Centre, where the activity was like a beehive. I was not the only one looking for family - there were soldiers of all nationalities, people from concentration camps, and others who had been hiding throughout the war. There were hundreds of them looking for parents, brothers, sisters, children and other relatives. Several ladies and gentlemen were trying to help all these people locate their relatives.
Discussions were conducted in all languages. When it was my turn, I was first given a form to fill in the names and addresses of persons I wanted to find. One lady was looking over my shoulder when I put down the name Yoine Tiefenbrunner. Since I was in British uniform, she asked me why I was looking for Yoine. I told her that he was my brother. She looked at me in a strange way and told me to wait, as she had to make a phone call. I could not understand why, while all the others were busily filling in forms, I had to wait. The lady did not return, but within five minutes, there came Yoine. I was so overwhelmed that I shouted out "Yoine" and we fell into each other's arms. People in the building stopped what they were doing and looked at this strange spectacle of two men - one a British soldier and one a well-known personality - just holding hands and openly crying.
As it turned out, Yoine was one of the leading people in the committee, and at that moment when I came to find my family, he happened to be working in the same building. I was extremely lucky to find the person I was looking for on the first day. I had nine days to celebrate the reunion and enjoy my stay in Belgium. I certainly was going to take full advantage of the 10 days leave I was given. It was nearly six years since I had left Belgium, and I had not seen any of my family. Considering what had happened in the last six years, it was a miracle seeing each other again.
Of course we both wanted to know what had happened in those six years. Yoine took leave of his colleagues and took me to his home to introduce me to his wife Ruth (nee Feldheim) of Fulda, Germany, and his daughter Janette who was two and a half years old. Yoine's home was not just an apartment - it was a whole building. At that time, he was the director of an orphanage, which held 60-100 children. What I learnt of Yoine's activities during the war and the Nazi occupation was amazing.
I was happy to hear that Philip had been successful in fleeing, first to unoccupied Southern France, and later on to Switzerland, where he was interred during the War. By this time he was already freed, but owing to some formalities he had to undergo in France, he would only arrive in Belgium within the next few weeks.
Now back to my stay with Yoine at his home. I enjoyed the company of the children and had to promise them that on Friday night, after supper, I would tell them the story of my activities in the Army and my stay as a POW. Well, this Friday night was a memorable one, as I was still in an emotional state from the experiences I had undergone. I started by telling them about the escape from Belgium in 1939, the voyage on the boat for 10 weeks and arriving penniless, physically weak, but in high spirits on the shores of Eretz Yisrael, my internment by the British, and, finally, joining the British forces to fight the Nazis, and my experience in POW camp.
Seeing one of their own in British Army uniform, and listening to one who had the opportunity of hurting the enemy while they suffered so much during the long years of war, the children were spellbound. Looking into their hungry eyes, I couldn't stop and we all forgot time and sleep, and I only finished in the morning hours. For days, I had to answer questions of all sorts, and most of my stay in Belgium was spent with these children - an experience which was as exciting as anything I had done before.
The day came when I had to say goodbye to Yoine and the family and all the children, to depart for England. I reported to the camp in the north of England where I met a few hundred Palestinian POWs (i.e. soldiers who had enlisted in Palestine) some of whom I knew from before, when I served in the Pioneer Corps. Most of them were captured by the Germans in Greece and Crete, and had been in captivity for about four years. There were also some from the commandos and other units who were captured at a later stage.
In particular I was glad to find Jimmy Friedland, Yosef Shussheim and some others who were friends of long standing. Needless to say, the pleasure was mutual and of course we renewed our friendship and spent our leisure time together again. Jimmy, being a sergeant major, was very influential and it took no time at all to begin work with him in the administration office. There were staff personnel who were especially sent from Palestine to administer the camp during our stay in England, but it took more experienced people than office boys to handle ex-POWs. Working in the office meant less free time, but it also gave me an activity with an interest and the satisfaction that I could help to make the stay a bit easier for the boys who suffered for years under the hands of the Germans.
We also had some free time from these duties, which we spent together, either locally or in London. One of my duties was to write out leave passes, for those who were granted leave for weekends. One day, a soldier, reporting back to me from leave, told me that while in London, he had spent some time with a family named Goldman, who knew me from Germany. They were also friendly with another family named Sturm, who claimed to know me too. Sigmund and Lilo Goldman were old friends from Wiesbaden, and the Sturms also knew me, as my sister Sala was married to their cousin, and they had attended the wedding in Wiesbaden. The Sturms were Abraham Isaac and Giza (nee Blasbalg) Sturm, who had come to England on the eve of the war (1938) from Munich, with their three children, Friedel, Ossi and Shula.
When my turn came to get leave, I went to London and looked up the Goldmans and also the Sturms. It was a joyful meeting with the Goldmans whom I had not seen since 1938. The Sturms were away from London on this weekend but I met their elder daughter whom I knew about, but had not met before. This was Friedel, who was too young to come to my sister's wedding.
Meeting her now, we fell in love. After that chance meeting, I took every opportunity to go to London and spend my free time with these two wonderful families. Edith, the daughter of the Goldmans, and Friedel Sturm were already close friends, and it was natural that I would ask one of my friends to make up a foursome. We had some wonderful times together.
At about this time, another old friend, Captain David Buck (who was now a Major), approached me. Through the War Office, he found out where I was stationed. He asked me if I would be willing to join him on another intelligence action. He had been asked by the War Office to join General Wingate, who was at this time operating in Burma. Of course he was particularly qualified for the Far Eastern theatre, as, unlike me, he spoke several Indian languages. He argued that in this operation, languages did not matter, as he needed an assistant with experience and one he could rely on. I nevertheless declined as, for me, the motive of fighting the Nazis had come to an end. The Far East was not high on my list of priorities. Besides that, I now had to consider Friedel, to whom I had become engaged.
He understood, and on my next leave to London, we met and I introduced him to Friedel, and then he understood even better! We nevertheless spent some good times together. The four of us, David Buck, Friedel, Edith and myself went out to the theatre and concerts. Buck, in his Grenadier uniform, struck quite a figure, turning many eyes his way wherever he went. Shortly afterwards, he left for duty to the Far East. I did not hear from him until some weeks later, when I received a phone call from his sister to say that he had been killed in action. The plane, in which he and his unit were travelling, was shot down, killing all passengers and crew. It would have been the plane I would have been travelling in, had I joined him.
I also had another chance to go on leave to Belgium, where I again spent a wonderful time with Yoine and family. By this time, Philip had also arrived from France, and we made the most of our time together. We had a lot to tell each other. He told me that after escaping to Southern France, one day in Nice, he had gone out to arrange something. When he returned his wife was not where he left her. Later he found out that the Gestapo had taken her away, and he could not find any trace of where they had taken her. He left Nice for the Swiss border, which he crossed illegally. He was interned in a refugee camp. There, he met Hencha Wasserman from Antwerp, whom he eventually married after returning to Antwerp.
When I came this time, I brought with me food and other sundries which I could purchase from the army canteen. When showing it to Yoine's family, I thought they would be more than pleased, but they laughed at me, as all these items could be bought in every shop. It seemed ironical. to me that, in Belgium you could buy anything you wanted, whereas in England, there was strict rationing (even though they were the victors of the War). When my leave came to an end, I had to say goodbye to my family once again,
When I returned to camp a surprise awaited me. I was selected for a reception by their Majesties, the King and Queen, in Buckingham Palace. It was to be a reception for POW's of the Allied Forces i.e. Canadian, British, Free Polish, Free Czech etc. I was to represent the commando units of the Palestinians. With me, were about a dozen Palestinians from various units, including Jimmy Friedland. How I had dreamed of being received by the King of the British Empire. We assembled in the barracks near the Palace, were met by the representative of the Jewish Agency and marched into Buckingham Palace. We formed into a half circle, and their two daughters, Princess Elizabeth (today's Queen) and Princess Margaret, came out of the Palace into the garden. We were introduced to some high officials and officers. The entourage started at one end of the half circle and sometimes made a short stop to talk to a soldier. We were in the middle of the circle, among other units of the Eighth Army. The King and Queen approached us. The Admiral at his side announced the name of the respective unit and the area we were fighting in. At this stage, the King addressed a number of remarks to us, regarding our activities in N. Africa. After that, the royal entourage made several more stops, until they came to the end of the half circle. With that, the official ceremony ended and everybody went towards the buffet where coffee and tea were served, catered by Lyons Corner House. So ended my visit to the Royal Palace. We received no medals at this reception - medals awarded for war service were sent to us in the post after the War.
One more incident I should mention, during my stay in England. To pass the time, we arranged sports events, from time to time, and often invited clubs from the neighbourhood to play football against the team from our camp, near Stoke-on-Trent. On one occasion we played against the reserve team of the well-known club Stoke City. I happened to be the goalkeeper, and although we lost, we played a good game. Some time after that, we had a visit from the manager of Stoke City, who asked the camp commander if they could borrow the goalkeeper, as they were going to play a charity game against Wolverhampton Wanderers, another famous club. They were in need of a goalkeeper. I must have made quite an impression at the earlier game. Our camp commander was pleased to let me play, and I played a good game. The result confirms it, as we won the match 2:1.
During the remaining weeks in that camp, I took every opportunity to go to London to be together with Friedel - sometimes with other friends, sometimes just sightseeing. The time came when we - the Palestinian contingent - were to be repatriated to Palestine. In October 1945, we boarded a ship that took us through the Mediterranean to Egypt and from there, by train, to Palestine. It was an emotional moment, coming back to our homeland after such a long time. The whole world had changed since the time when I had arrived here the first time, in August 1939. At that time, World War Two was about to start, and the Nazis were successfully expanding in all directions in Europe. Now, in October 1945, the German Army had lost the war, and Hitler was dead. However, the Jewish people had lost six million people - one third of its total population.
After the arrival of some officers and men from the service corps, we went through the formalities of registering our names, army numbers, etc., and, of course, the details of our captivity. We were then divided into groups, according to the regiments to which we belonged. After this, I asked in an interview with the commanding officer if it would be possible for me to stay a few days in Belgium to look for family which I had left there before the War. He was very understanding, and leave was granted for up to 10 days to give me ample time to find my relations. As we were all going to England via Belgium, I was given travel papers and a leave permit, as well as the address of the camp, in order to report back to my unit.
I arrived in Brussels, but where to go to find the whereabouts of my brothers Yoine and Philip? I went to the Jewish Community Centre, where the activity was like a beehive. I was not the only one looking for family - there were soldiers of all nationalities, people from concentration camps, and others who had been hiding throughout the war. There were hundreds of them looking for parents, brothers, sisters, children and other relatives. Several ladies and gentlemen were trying to help all these people locate their relatives.
Discussions were conducted in all languages. When it was my turn, I was first given a form to fill in the names and addresses of persons I wanted to find. One lady was looking over my shoulder when I put down the name Yoine Tiefenbrunner. Since I was in British uniform, she asked me why I was looking for Yoine. I told her that he was my brother. She looked at me in a strange way and told me to wait, as she had to make a phone call. I could not understand why, while all the others were busily filling in forms, I had to wait. The lady did not return, but within five minutes, there came Yoine. I was so overwhelmed that I shouted out "Yoine" and we fell into each other's arms. People in the building stopped what they were doing and looked at this strange spectacle of two men - one a British soldier and one a well-known personality - just holding hands and openly crying.
As it turned out, Yoine was one of the leading people in the committee, and at that moment when I came to find my family, he happened to be working in the same building. I was extremely lucky to find the person I was looking for on the first day. I had nine days to celebrate the reunion and enjoy my stay in Belgium. I certainly was going to take full advantage of the 10 days leave I was given. It was nearly six years since I had left Belgium, and I had not seen any of my family. Considering what had happened in the last six years, it was a miracle seeing each other again.
Of course we both wanted to know what had happened in those six years. Yoine took leave of his colleagues and took me to his home to introduce me to his wife Ruth (nee Feldheim) of Fulda, Germany, and his daughter Janette who was two and a half years old. Yoine's home was not just an apartment - it was a whole building. At that time, he was the director of an orphanage, which held 60-100 children. What I learnt of Yoine's activities during the war and the Nazi occupation was amazing.
I was happy to hear that Philip had been successful in fleeing, first to unoccupied Southern France, and later on to Switzerland, where he was interred during the War. By this time he was already freed, but owing to some formalities he had to undergo in France, he would only arrive in Belgium within the next few weeks.
Now back to my stay with Yoine at his home. I enjoyed the company of the children and had to promise them that on Friday night, after supper, I would tell them the story of my activities in the Army and my stay as a POW. Well, this Friday night was a memorable one, as I was still in an emotional state from the experiences I had undergone. I started by telling them about the escape from Belgium in 1939, the voyage on the boat for 10 weeks and arriving penniless, physically weak, but in high spirits on the shores of Eretz Yisrael, my internment by the British, and, finally, joining the British forces to fight the Nazis, and my experience in POW camp.
Seeing one of their own in British Army uniform, and listening to one who had the opportunity of hurting the enemy while they suffered so much during the long years of war, the children were spellbound. Looking into their hungry eyes, I couldn't stop and we all forgot time and sleep, and I only finished in the morning hours. For days, I had to answer questions of all sorts, and most of my stay in Belgium was spent with these children - an experience which was as exciting as anything I had done before.
The day came when I had to say goodbye to Yoine and the family and all the children, to depart for England. I reported to the camp in the north of England where I met a few hundred Palestinian POWs (i.e. soldiers who had enlisted in Palestine) some of whom I knew from before, when I served in the Pioneer Corps. Most of them were captured by the Germans in Greece and Crete, and had been in captivity for about four years. There were also some from the commandos and other units who were captured at a later stage.
In particular I was glad to find Jimmy Friedland, Yosef Shussheim and some others who were friends of long standing. Needless to say, the pleasure was mutual and of course we renewed our friendship and spent our leisure time together again. Jimmy, being a sergeant major, was very influential and it took no time at all to begin work with him in the administration office. There were staff personnel who were especially sent from Palestine to administer the camp during our stay in England, but it took more experienced people than office boys to handle ex-POWs. Working in the office meant less free time, but it also gave me an activity with an interest and the satisfaction that I could help to make the stay a bit easier for the boys who suffered for years under the hands of the Germans.
We also had some free time from these duties, which we spent together, either locally or in London. One of my duties was to write out leave passes, for those who were granted leave for weekends. One day, a soldier, reporting back to me from leave, told me that while in London, he had spent some time with a family named Goldman, who knew me from Germany. They were also friendly with another family named Sturm, who claimed to know me too. Sigmund and Lilo Goldman were old friends from Wiesbaden, and the Sturms also knew me, as my sister Sala was married to their cousin, and they had attended the wedding in Wiesbaden. The Sturms were Abraham Isaac and Giza (nee Blasbalg) Sturm, who had come to England on the eve of the war (1938) from Munich, with their three children, Friedel, Ossi and Shula.
When my turn came to get leave, I went to London and looked up the Goldmans and also the Sturms. It was a joyful meeting with the Goldmans whom I had not seen since 1938. The Sturms were away from London on this weekend but I met their elder daughter whom I knew about, but had not met before. This was Friedel, who was too young to come to my sister's wedding.
Meeting her now, we fell in love. After that chance meeting, I took every opportunity to go to London and spend my free time with these two wonderful families. Edith, the daughter of the Goldmans, and Friedel Sturm were already close friends, and it was natural that I would ask one of my friends to make up a foursome. We had some wonderful times together.At about this time, another old friend, Captain David Buck (who was now a Major), approached me. Through the War Office, he found out where I was stationed. He asked me if I would be willing to join him on another intelligence action. He had been asked by the War Office to join General Wingate, who was at this time operating in Burma. Of course he was particularly qualified for the Far Eastern theatre, as, unlike me, he spoke several Indian languages. He argued that in this operation, languages did not matter, as he needed an assistant with experience and one he could rely on. I nevertheless declined as, for me, the motive of fighting the Nazis had come to an end. The Far East was not high on my list of priorities. Besides that, I now had to consider Friedel, to whom I had become engaged.
He understood, and on my next leave to London, we met and I introduced him to Friedel, and then he understood even better! We nevertheless spent some good times together. The four of us, David Buck, Friedel, Edith and myself went out to the theatre and concerts. Buck, in his Grenadier uniform, struck quite a figure, turning many eyes his way wherever he went. Shortly afterwards, he left for duty to the Far East. I did not hear from him until some weeks later, when I received a phone call from his sister to say that he had been killed in action. The plane, in which he and his unit were travelling, was shot down, killing all passengers and crew. It would have been the plane I would have been travelling in, had I joined him.
I also had another chance to go on leave to Belgium, where I again spent a wonderful time with Yoine and family. By this time, Philip had also arrived from France, and we made the most of our time together. We had a lot to tell each other. He told me that after escaping to Southern France, one day in Nice, he had gone out to arrange something. When he returned his wife was not where he left her. Later he found out that the Gestapo had taken her away, and he could not find any trace of where they had taken her. He left Nice for the Swiss border, which he crossed illegally. He was interned in a refugee camp. There, he met Hencha Wasserman from Antwerp, whom he eventually married after returning to Antwerp.
When I came this time, I brought with me food and other sundries which I could purchase from the army canteen. When showing it to Yoine's family, I thought they would be more than pleased, but they laughed at me, as all these items could be bought in every shop. It seemed ironical. to me that, in Belgium you could buy anything you wanted, whereas in England, there was strict rationing (even though they were the victors of the War). When my leave came to an end, I had to say goodbye to my family once again,
When I returned to camp a surprise awaited me. I was selected for a reception by their Majesties, the King and Queen, in Buckingham Palace. It was to be a reception for POW's of the Allied Forces i.e. Canadian, British, Free Polish, Free Czech etc. I was to represent the commando units of the Palestinians. With me, were about a dozen Palestinians from various units, including Jimmy Friedland. How I had dreamed of being received by the King of the British Empire. We assembled in the barracks near the Palace, were met by the representative of the Jewish Agency and marched into Buckingham Palace. We formed into a half circle, and their two daughters, Princess Elizabeth (today's Queen) and Princess Margaret, came out of the Palace into the garden. We were introduced to some high officials and officers. The entourage started at one end of the half circle and sometimes made a short stop to talk to a soldier. We were in the middle of the circle, among other units of the Eighth Army. The King and Queen approached us. The Admiral at his side announced the name of the respective unit and the area we were fighting in. At this stage, the King addressed a number of remarks to us, regarding our activities in N. Africa. After that, the royal entourage made several more stops, until they came to the end of the half circle. With that, the official ceremony ended and everybody went towards the buffet where coffee and tea were served, catered by Lyons Corner House. So ended my visit to the Royal Palace. We received no medals at this reception - medals awarded for war service were sent to us in the post after the War.
One more incident I should mention, during my stay in England. To pass the time, we arranged sports events, from time to time, and often invited clubs from the neighbourhood to play football against the team from our camp, near Stoke-on-Trent. On one occasion we played against the reserve team of the well-known club Stoke City. I happened to be the goalkeeper, and although we lost, we played a good game. Some time after that, we had a visit from the manager of Stoke City, who asked the camp commander if they could borrow the goalkeeper, as they were going to play a charity game against Wolverhampton Wanderers, another famous club. They were in need of a goalkeeper. I must have made quite an impression at the earlier game. Our camp commander was pleased to let me play, and I played a good game. The result confirms it, as we won the match 2:1.
During the remaining weeks in that camp, I took every opportunity to go to London to be together with Friedel - sometimes with other friends, sometimes just sightseeing. The time came when we - the Palestinian contingent - were to be repatriated to Palestine. In October 1945, we boarded a ship that took us through the Mediterranean to Egypt and from there, by train, to Palestine. It was an emotional moment, coming back to our homeland after such a long time. The whole world had changed since the time when I had arrived here the first time, in August 1939. At that time, World War Two was about to start, and the Nazis were successfully expanding in all directions in Europe. Now, in October 1945, the German Army had lost the war, and Hitler was dead. However, the Jewish people had lost six million people - one third of its total population.
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