I’m afraid my daughter was born a week before Hitler marched in, and my milk went. It was the shock. We were Jewish. I intended to breastfeed her, but in the end she grew very well without.
My husband was taken on Kristallnacht, the day everybody was taken. He had gone out, against my advice. The authorities wanted me out of my flat. I went to the SS headquarters and told them in no uncertain terms what I thought of them, ‘I’m not going to leave my flat and you can kiss my arse!’ (laughs) Maybe it was foolish, but attack is the best defence. My husband was in Dachau and somehow I had to get him out.
My husband’s boss was an ex-Nazi, but he was a very nice man, and he was fond of us. I asked him what to do, and he said, ‘Go to the Gestapo’. I thought that was a good idea. My parents said I couldn’t, but I said, ‘I’m not afraid of the Devil! And if it helps, I will do it’. I rang up and made an appointment.
I saw a middle-aged man and we got talking, about this and that, like us now. After half an hour he said he had to go, but he said, ‘I tell you something, I promise I will get your husband out, in three weeks, but I want something from you’. I knew what he wanted, but I said, ‘Oh, what can I do for you?’ ‘I want you to visit me twice a week, I love talking to you.’ ‘What days do you want?’ ‘Tuesday and Friday.’ I was quite prepared for anything. What’s my little thing, if it means getting him out? It’s unimportant. Getting him out, that’s the important thing. But the man really only wanted to talk. I entertained him, I had prepared some topics – like Sheherazade! (laughs) And after three weeks, to the day, my husband came home.
