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Title SARI MARKO - THALER

Description
Sari Marko-Thaler was a Jewish refugee who was a pupil at the Hemel Hempstead Grammar School from 1943 ? 1946. She wrote this account in November 2010 with the help of a diary kept at the time. Sari now lives in Israel.

My parents, brother and I came to England from Belgium in August 1939. My married sister was already living there. It was the dreaded threat of a Nazi invasion that caused my parents, almost overnight, to leave two successful businesses in diamonds and chocolate only a few weeks before the outbreak of war.

My father was granted a work permit, and so could continue to work in the diamond business whose centre had moved from Antwerp to London. For over a year my parents, though considered ?friendly aliens? had to register daily at the nearest police station.

My mother was born homemaker and during out ?nomadic? life in England from 1039 to 1943 always managed to create a wonderfully warm and happy home for us. Since my father had left Belgium with only a small amount of money, we had to make do in many ways, such as using storage crates for night tables and eating and cooking utensils were bought at Woolworths. My mother, who had been spoilt with a cook and a maid, kept house and cooked and never complained. In fact, she said she actually preferred this way of life as it reminded her of life in the place of her birth, Denmark! My mother put her energy into finding ingenious ways of preparing food, trying hard with her limited English to follow the daily cooking hints given by radio personality Mabel -------

My brother, nine years my senior was discharged from the army due to illness.

My father?s family lived in Poland and only those who left for Palestine in the early thirties survived. The others were all murdered in ghettos and concentration camps.

For me it was quite traumatic to leave out home so suddenly ? friends, dancing classes I loved, to leave most of my toys behind and be confronted with a totally unknown language.

I was 10 years old and had already experienced the restraints and the cold rigidity of school life in Belgium. What joy it was then, to attend my first school in England! A village type of school in the small town of Littlehampton, Sussex. Not knowing a word of English, I was nonetheless placed in a class with children my own age. I was seated next to a girl, Joan Brynd (who I later discovered was the Headmaster?s daughter). She was to look after me. It took no time for us to become bosom friends ? language or no language! Our delightful form mistress, Mrs Jenkins was extremely kind to me and made those difficult beginnings easy. How I enjoyed those small bottles of delicious milk (with a straw), we could buy for a farthing! At that school we were also issued with gas masks which from then on had to be carried where-ever we went.

Our stay in Littlehampton was cut short soon after the evacuation from Dunkirk, when an edict was issued that foreigners, be they aliens or allies (as we were) could no longer live on the coast. As it was a school holiday, I could not say goodbye and once again had to leave a friend I loved and this also, a school I had very quickly grown to love. We had no alternative but to move to London and to see for ourselves the wonderful heroism of milkmen who braved the blitz to deliver their goods, and of postmen who went from shelter to shelter to bring the mail and report news from the outside world.

In all I missed over 2 years schooling till in 1943 we moved to Kings Langley, Herts. It was then that my 24 year old sister took things into her own hands and went to see Mr Screaton, the Headmaster of the Hemel Hempstead Grammar School. Kind as he was, he must have taken pity on this young woman and her little refugee sister. He agreed to test me in English and Maths; and he did so personally. In the English test I did particularly well but the maths with its deviance from the decimal system was a real puzzle to me. Nevertheless, Mr Screaton decided to give me a chance in a form one year back from my age group. I am eternally grateful to him for the all too few precious years I was able to be in school.

In retrospect I think I ENJOYED my years in school too much. Forgetting that the purpose was not only fun but ?some? education as well!! As a Jewish refugee child I felt absolutely no discrimination and have only the fondest memories of so many wonderful, dedicated teachers. The school was swollen in numbers by evacuee children and as a result a few forms did not have permanent classrooms but wandered about the school into any free room. This caused disruption because, accidently or on purpose, we did not always have the relevant books with us and it meant going to the locker room to get them.

Sometimes there were air raid warnings and we trooped down to the shelter. How happy we were when these coincided with a test! The shelter was crowded and, I think now, ill-prepared for longer stays.

The school had adopted a destroyer, ?Lord Keith,? in 1940. There was a Farthings Fund and every week classes competed to raise the most money. The results were read out weekly at morning assembly. In January 1943 an officer serving on the ship came and talked to the school and presented a silver cup on which could be engraved the name of an outstanding boy or girl for the year. There was also a fund called ?Wings for Victory?. This was a collection of silver paper all for the war effort.

A pen friend connection was begun between pupils at the HHGS and Russia organised by Miss Reading. I was asked to put the rather stilted and often incorrect English into a more coherent form and the letters were then sent to pen friends in England. I had such a friend in Leningrad and it was a most interesting, informative correspondence.

A funny incident: at assembly the Headmaster complained that pupils staying for school lunch were insulting the cooks by playing with their food and leaving it uneaten. We were asked to remember that sailors were risking their lives bringing it. ?And we risk our lives eating it?, piped up a voice from within our ranks.

On 30th July 1943 (a Friday) the school broke up for the summer holidays. Could this late date be anything to do with the war? The new term began on 21st September.

In 1944 the school was so enlarged that the Methodist Hall in Apsley had to taken for classes. This caused havoc with timetables, as in all weather, rain or shine, the twenty minute walk had to be undertaken twice.

The 6th June 1944: D-Day. Pupils asked the Headmaster whether we could listen to the wireless in the assembly hall. We were told it was not working, but that we could go to Miss Dale?s room where there was a wireless. (Miss Dale was a History teacher and Vice Principal). There were a number of teachers there, all listening tensely and we joined them. It was an exciting day!

Here is a wonderful anecdote I heard from Miss Dale (Mrs Gurton). With great glee she told of a mother of a prospective pupils anxiously phoning Mr Screeton asking, ?My daughter won?t have to sit with all those scholarship people, will she?? ?No, Madam,? he retorted, ?not unless she?s clever enough!?

In June 1944 three ATS girls came and talked to the assembled school. Films were shown, one of them being, ?She Serves Abroad?. Pupils could ask questions.

On the 16th June 1944 there were several air- raid warnings and each time we filed into the shelter. We heard that a new weapon was being used, a pilotless aircraft or the ?doodlebug? as it came to be called.
From then on we spent many hours in the shelter. Parents were asked to give written permission if they wanted their children to leave for home at the end of the school day before the ?all clear? sounded.
Some of the staff served in the Civil Defence and came to school wearing uniforms.

On 23rd November1944 an American sergeant came and talked to the school about Thanksgiving Day. The records at assembly were ?The Mayflower? by McDowell and a part of Dvorak?s New World Symphony. A wonderful custom was the daily playing of a classical piece of music. Sometimes the records were played on request.

Classrooms were unheated, no matter how cold the winter due to shortage of fuel. We sometimes sat in our coats and gloves or mittens. Many of us suffered from severe chilblains.

In honour of VE Day, homework was cancelled for the rest of the week!! There was a two day public holiday.

Keywords refugee; air-raid; D-day; Lord Keith; VE Day

Collection Hemel Hempstead School

Place Hemel Hempstead, Kings Langley

Year 1943-1945

Conflict World War Two

File type html

Record ID number 179

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Title	SARI MARKO - THALER
Description	Sari Marko-Thaler was a Jewish refugee who was a pupil at the Hemel Hempstead Grammar School from 1943 ? 1946. She wrote this account in November 2010 with the help of a diary kept at the time. Sari now lives in Israel. My parents, brother and I came to England from Belgium in August 1939. My married sister was already living there. It was the dreaded threat of a Nazi invasion that caused my parents, almost overnight, to leave two successful businesses in diamonds and chocolate only a few weeks before the outbreak of war. My father was granted a work permit, and so could continue to work in the diamond business whose centre had moved from Antwerp to London. For over a year my parents, though considered ?friendly aliens? had to register daily at the nearest police station. My mother was born homemaker and during out ?nomadic? life in England from 1039 to 1943 always managed to create a wonderfully warm and happy home for us. Since my father had left Belgium with only a small amount of money, we had to make do in many ways, such as using storage crates for night tables and eating and cooking utensils were bought at Woolworths. My mother, who had been spoilt with a cook and a maid, kept house and cooked and never complained. In fact, she said she actually preferred this way of life as it reminded her of life in the place of her birth, Denmark! My mother put her energy into finding ingenious ways of preparing food, trying hard with her limited English to follow the daily cooking hints given by radio personality Mabel ------- My brother, nine years my senior was discharged from the army due to illness. My father?s family lived in Poland and only those who left for Palestine in the early thirties survived. The others were all murdered in ghettos and concentration camps. For me it was quite traumatic to leave out home so suddenly ? friends, dancing classes I loved, to leave most of my toys behind and be confronted with a totally unknown language. I was 10 years old and had already experienced the restraints and the cold rigidity of school life in Belgium. What joy it was then, to attend my first school in England! A village type of school in the small town of Littlehampton, Sussex. Not knowing a word of English, I was nonetheless placed in a class with children my own age. I was seated next to a girl, Joan Brynd (who I later discovered was the Headmaster?s daughter). She was to look after me. It took no time for us to become bosom friends ? language or no language! Our delightful form mistress, Mrs Jenkins was extremely kind to me and made those difficult beginnings easy. How I enjoyed those small bottles of delicious milk (with a straw), we could buy for a farthing! At that school we were also issued with gas masks which from then on had to be carried where-ever we went. Our stay in Littlehampton was cut short soon after the evacuation from Dunkirk, when an edict was issued that foreigners, be they aliens or allies (as we were) could no longer live on the coast. As it was a school holiday, I could not say goodbye and once again had to leave a friend I loved and this also, a school I had very quickly grown to love. We had no alternative but to move to London and to see for ourselves the wonderful heroism of milkmen who braved the blitz to deliver their goods, and of postmen who went from shelter to shelter to bring the mail and report news from the outside world. In all I missed over 2 years schooling till in 1943 we moved to Kings Langley, Herts. It was then that my 24 year old sister took things into her own hands and went to see Mr Screaton, the Headmaster of the Hemel Hempstead Grammar School. Kind as he was, he must have taken pity on this young woman and her little refugee sister. He agreed to test me in English and Maths; and he did so personally. In the English test I did particularly well but the maths with its deviance from the decimal system was a real puzzle to me. Nevertheless, Mr Screaton decided to give me a chance in a form one year back from my age group. I am eternally grateful to him for the all too few precious years I was able to be in school. In retrospect I think I ENJOYED my years in school too much. Forgetting that the purpose was not only fun but ?some? education as well!! As a Jewish refugee child I felt absolutely no discrimination and have only the fondest memories of so many wonderful, dedicated teachers. The school was swollen in numbers by evacuee children and as a result a few forms did not have permanent classrooms but wandered about the school into any free room. This caused disruption because, accidently or on purpose, we did not always have the relevant books with us and it meant going to the locker room to get them. Sometimes there were air raid warnings and we trooped down to the shelter. How happy we were when these coincided with a test! The shelter was crowded and, I think now, ill-prepared for longer stays. The school had adopted a destroyer, ?Lord Keith,? in 1940. There was a Farthings Fund and every week classes competed to raise the most money. The results were read out weekly at morning assembly. In January 1943 an officer serving on the ship came and talked to the school and presented a silver cup on which could be engraved the name of an outstanding boy or girl for the year. There was also a fund called ?Wings for Victory?. This was a collection of silver paper all for the war effort. A pen friend connection was begun between pupils at the HHGS and Russia organised by Miss Reading. I was asked to put the rather stilted and often incorrect English into a more coherent form and the letters were then sent to pen friends in England. I had such a friend in Leningrad and it was a most interesting, informative correspondence. A funny incident: at assembly the Headmaster complained that pupils staying for school lunch were insulting the cooks by playing with their food and leaving it uneaten. We were asked to remember that sailors were risking their lives bringing it. ?And we risk our lives eating it?, piped up a voice from within our ranks. On 30th July 1943 (a Friday) the school broke up for the summer holidays. Could this late date be anything to do with the war? The new term began on 21st September. In 1944 the school was so enlarged that the Methodist Hall in Apsley had to taken for classes. This caused havoc with timetables, as in all weather, rain or shine, the twenty minute walk had to be undertaken twice. The 6th June 1944: D-Day. Pupils asked the Headmaster whether we could listen to the wireless in the assembly hall. We were told it was not working, but that we could go to Miss Dale?s room where there was a wireless. (Miss Dale was a History teacher and Vice Principal). There were a number of teachers there, all listening tensely and we joined them. It was an exciting day! Here is a wonderful anecdote I heard from Miss Dale (Mrs Gurton). With great glee she told of a mother of a prospective pupils anxiously phoning Mr Screeton asking, ?My daughter won?t have to sit with all those scholarship people, will she?? ?No, Madam,? he retorted, ?not unless she?s clever enough!? In June 1944 three ATS girls came and talked to the assembled school. Films were shown, one of them being, ?She Serves Abroad?. Pupils could ask questions. On the 16th June 1944 there were several air- raid warnings and each time we filed into the shelter. We heard that a new weapon was being used, a pilotless aircraft or the ?doodlebug? as it came to be called. From then on we spent many hours in the shelter. Parents were asked to give written permission if they wanted their children to leave for home at the end of the school day before the ?all clear? sounded. Some of the staff served in the Civil Defence and came to school wearing uniforms. On 23rd November1944 an American sergeant came and talked to the school about Thanksgiving Day. The records at assembly were ?The Mayflower? by McDowell and a part of Dvorak?s New World Symphony. A wonderful custom was the daily playing of a classical piece of music. Sometimes the records were played on request. Classrooms were unheated, no matter how cold the winter due to shortage of fuel. We sometimes sat in our coats and gloves or mittens. Many of us suffered from severe chilblains. In honour of VE Day, homework was cancelled for the rest of the week!! There was a two day public holiday.
Keywords	refugee; air-raid; D-day; Lord Keith; VE Day
Collection	Hemel Hempstead School
Place	Hemel Hempstead, Kings Langley
Year	1943-1945
Conflict	World War Two
File type	html
Record ID number	179