“My mother, Rose, managed to put me on one of the last kindertransports to England. I was safe.

They couldn’t leave. Fanda, my father, decided not to show up for a transport. Instead, he made arrangements with the Homolkas, a brave Czech family in a tiny village close to Pilsen.

In their living room, there was a little niche, big enough for two to stand and a pot. They moved a cupboard in front of it and filled it with clothes to hide the opening.

Once Homolkas’ son was taken to the hospital with diphteria. The day after, two inspectors arrived with orders to fumigate the house.

My parents were hiding in their cache as the window and door were sealed. After the formaldehyde lamp was put on, Mrs. Homolkova quickly invited the men for a meal in the kitchen.

Then she darted out of the house and opened the window from outside. My parents, hankerchiefs on their mouths, were already waiting..”