Description
Physical description
large metal serving spoon (L 21.5cm).
Label
Dorrith Sim (née Oppenheim) brought this serving spoon with her when she was evacuated from Germany to the United Kingdom on one of the Kindertransports in July 1939. She recalls some of her experiences: 'At one time I know we lived in a beautiful flat . . . After we left there, our accommodation became more limited and my parents explained to me that being Jewish we had to be very careful about what we did and said and where we went. A suitcase was always kept ready and packed for my father in case he would be sent away. Then came the morning I arrived at school to find it wrecked, and men removing and destroying all they could lay their hands on, A man said to me: 'you'd better go home. It will be a long time before you're back here again.' It must have been about then that my Oma and Opa went off to Canada. We were in another house again. This time living with two elderly Jewish brothers and their sister. They had a shop set up in one room because by this time we were banned from visiting the shops in town. People knew to expect trouble that night and my mother had brought some Jewish children out of a Home to stay with us. The Nazis came in that night and knocked the shop about, pulling down all the cupboards with their contents. They took away valuables from my mother and father, including the cup for swimming which my mother had been so proud of. They did not take my mother away because of the children, but they took away my father. I remember how relieved and happy my mother was when he walked back into the house in the afternoon. Then there was the task of getting me out of Germany to England. Early each morning my mother and I went to the Town Hall to see an important man called Herr Schmidt. Each day we went away empty handed and I cannot remember how often we called there until the morning when he finally produced the documents which allowed me to leave. My parents got me ready for the journey. They tried to teach me some English. All I succeeded in learning was 'I want to go to the WC' and 'I have a handkerchief in my pocket'. Among my clothes they packed a box full of precious family photos, my own cutlery set to which I still cling, and as a remembrance of them, the toilet case, cloth and soap which my father had taken with him to the First World War, where I knew both my father and my Opa had won Iron Crosses. I recall arriving at the railway station in Hamburg. I was carrying my toy dog Droll and my red leather shoulder bag. I dropped Droll underneath the train and a man climbed down and rescued him. We children boarded the train to get our places. Then I was sent off again to say farewell to my mother and father, I can see them to this day. They were standing in a corridor behind a barrier. I said my goodbyes and then walked back up the long corridor away from them into the train.'
Dorrith went on to live with foster parents in Edinburgh, Fred and Sophie Gallimore. She started the Scottish group of Kindertransport Kinder and other refugees and camp survivors. She managed the group until 1997.
See: 'I Came Alone : the stories of the Kindertransports', edited by Bertha Leverton and Shmuel Lowensohn (1990), pp. 320-321.
History note
Dorrith Sim (née Oppenheim) brought this serving spoon with her when she was evacuated from Germany on one of the Kindertransports in July 1939.
She says of her experiences:
'At one time I know we lived in a beautiful flat . . . After we left there, our accommodation became more limited and my parents explained to me that being Jewish we had to be very careful about what we did and said and where we went. A suitcase was always kept ready and packed for my father in case he would be sent away.
Then came the morning I arrived at school to find it wrecked, and men removing and destroying all they could lay their hands on, A man said to me: 'you'd better go home. It will be a long time before you're back here again.' It must have been about then that my Oma and Opa went off to Canada.
We were in another house again. This time living with two elderly Jewish brothers and their sister. They had a shop set up in one room because by this time we were banned from visiting the shops in town. People knew to expect trouble that night and my mother had brought some Jewish children out of a Home to stay with us. The Nazis came in that night and knocked the shop about, pulling down all the cupboards with their contents. They took away valuables from my mother and father, including the cup for swimming which my mother had been so proud of. They did not take my mother away because of the children, but they took away my father. I remember how relieved and happy my mother was when he walked back into the house in the afternoon.
Then there was the task of getting me out of Germany to England. Early each morning my mother and I went to the Town Hall to see an important man called Herr Schmidt. Each day we went away empty handed and I cannot remember how often we called there until the morning when he finally produced the documents which allowed me to leave.
My parents got me ready for the journey. They tried to teach me some English. All I succeeded in learning was 'I want to go to the WC' and 'I have a handkerchief in my pocket'. Among my clothes they packed a box full of precious family photos, my own cutlery set to which I still cling, and as a remembrance of them, the toilet case, cloth and soap which my father had taken with him to the First World War, where I knew both my father and my Opa had won Iron Crosses.
I recall arriving at the railway station in Hamburg. I was carrying my toy dog Droll and my red leather shoulder bag. I dropped Droll underneath the train and a man climbed down and rescued him. We children boarded the train to get our places. Then I was sent off again to say farewell to my mother and father, I can see them to this day. They were standing in a corridor behind a barrier. I said my goodbyes and then walked back up the long corridor away from them into the train.'
'I Came Alone : the stories of the Kindertransports', edited by Bertha Leverton and Shmuel Lowensohn (1990), pp. 320-321
Dorrith went to live with foster parents in Edinburgh, Fred and Sophie Gallimore. She started the Scottish group of Kindertransport Kinder and other refugees and camp survivors. She managed the group until 1997.