Caroline Moorehead

The misery of the Kindertransport children

Wrenched from their parents and familiar surroundings, the young refugees found safety in Britain, but were tolerated rather than cherished, says Andrea Hammel

Three Kindertransport children waiting to be collected by relatives or sponsors at Liverpool Street station, 5 July 1939. [Getty Images] 
issue 04 November 2023

On the night of 9 November 1938, across Germany and Austria, Jews were attacked and their synagogues and businesses set on fire. In the days that followed Kristallnacht, a scheme was put in place to save children from Nazi persecution. Known as the Kindertransport, it would, over the following ten months, bring 10,000 children to the UK.  The Kindertransport – the word refers both to the means of transport and to the overarching programme – has always been regarded as a symbol of British generosity towards those in peril and seeking asylum. But it was all rather more complicated, as Andrea Hammel sets out to show.

There have been innumerable studies and reports describing the Kindertransport children, and Hammel draws on these and on the detailed research she has carried out herself over the past 20 years to paint a more critical picture. The story starts in Evian, in July 1938, when representatives from 32 countries gathered to discuss what each would do to help with the worsening refugee crisis in Nazi Germany. In the event, after many pious speeches, only the Dominican Republic agreed to open its doors to those fleeing persecution. As T.W. White from Australia put it: ‘Since we have no real racial problem, we are not desirous of importing one.’ Hitler pronounced himself ‘astounded’ that countries felt free to criticise Germany’s treatment of Jews but were curiously unwilling to offer their help.

Potential foster parents arrived to take their pick. Small, pretty girls went first, adolescent boys last

The UK had already begun regulating immigration in 1905, and from April 1938, anyone wishing to gain entry to the country needed a visa. Celebrated academics, scientists and artists had a better chance than most, as did women willing to work as maids at a time when Britain was said to be suffering from a ‘servant crisis’.

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