The Escape to Sweden

by Michael Schriver

My Grandmother – her long name was actually Ruth Naomi Vivian Marling Margolis Balle Hansen – managed to write her memoirs in her early 80s just before she passed away in 2002, being 83 years old. I have tried to translate the short segment where she describes her escape to Sweden in October 1943. She came from a Jewish family in Copenhagen, but lived away from her parents in the town of Aalborg in northern Jutland, Denmark. There she raised her 2 children, my mother Vivian and my uncle Tommy.

[….] Now came the time where I had to go into exile along with my 2 children. Max[1] had a colleague who was a nazi-sympathiser. They could not stand the sight of each other. When they were on duty[2] together they walked on opposite sides of the street and avoided all communication. This man knew that I was a Jewish girl, and Max of course was afraid he would turn me in.

There was a German guard post not more than a few minutes walk from where I lived. Whenever I passed there with the pram with Vivian inside and Tommy[3] sitting on the top, Tommy used to get really scared and asked if the guards would hurt us. I always told him that as long as we didn’t look at them and just minded our own business nothing would happen. I would then take a shawl around my head so that the guards could not see my dark hair. Recalling this story today, I cannot help thinking about the big debate going on about Turkish Muslim girls’ right to wear a shawl to work[4]. Some of these girls say it is their means of protection. I can understand what they mean.

That particular day I went to the apartment. My children were with their nanny in her apartment, one street across from my home. They came home at nighttime. I decided that it would be better if we slept at my neighbour’s apartment. I left the doors to the bedrooms in my apartment wide open facing the entrée. This way it would be obvious that no one had slept in the beds, in case the Germans came to look for us during the night. The Germans always came either at night or very early in the morning.

14 days passed by like this. I then went again to my doctor who knew about my situation. He told me that a man would come to my apartment and talk to me about how the escape would take place. He then gave me a little bottle of morphine and explained to me how many drops I should give the children.
The man came the next day. He was an attractive, young fellow. I did not know him and did not ask for his name. He explained to me how the escape would take place. First he would come to get one of my three pieces of luggage, the one filled with children’s clothes. Then he would come back for the second one. I would not be allowed to bring the third suitcase. I should rather pack a picnic basket as if I was going on a picnic. I would drive my bike, with one child in front, in the bike’s basket and the other child behind on the rear. I was to drive across the bridge of the Limfjord[5]. I should then slow down on the other side and drive leisurely to the side of the pier. There I would meet a tall man and a short man and they would take care of the rest. It was all supposed to happen the very next afternoon, and at least it all started according to plan. I had just given the children some of the morphine after their breakfast when suddenly the man came: “It’s not possible today”, he said. “The Germans are already on the pier and demand to see the papers of the ship, and then the ship has to sail immediately after. It has to be tomorrow, and it will be on another ship”.

All this happened so quickly that I really didn’t have time to think about whether it meant good or bad luck.

So the next morning I had to give my children morphine once again. Tommy pushed the spoon and spilled the morphine down his clothes. But both of them swallowed, as they were still not fully awake from their last dose. I was terrified as the morphine started to take effect, visibly in their eyes and they couldn’t keep their balance sitting there on the kitchen table. “How am I ever going to keep our balance on the bike”, I thought. But they both fell fast asleep and I managed to get on the bike. But we were somewhat delayed, so when I had passed the middle of the bridge, I saw my “helper” on the opposite side of the street returning to his home. He offered me a discrete nod and I continued.

I then met the 2 men I was supposed to meet. They came up next to me in a big truck and everything happened in a rush. The children were picked up in the truck and the bike was lowered into the harbour. The ship stood ready to go by the pier and we were quickly directed inside. Before we were taken into hiding, I sat down with the captain and his wife and they told me what was going to happen. I felt anxious, like my courage was slowly slipping out of its balloon.

The ship was supposed to sail to Korsør[6]. It carried wood. “When we have come far enough from the Limfjord, we will try to sneak our way north towards a Swedish harbour,” the Captain said. The situation was this: Since the captain had to sail with a single woman and her children – this was the first time he ever carried fugitives because so far he had said no to all the requests he got from affluent Jews – he expected to get paid. I told him to go to see my mother- in-law to receive the rest of the amount I would have to pay for the service. I was convinced she would pay to rescue her grandchildren! Now the contact person asked the captain if he would also take onboard 2 young exile German Jews. The Jews were studying agriculture in Denmark and wanted to go to Palestine to start farming. They were Chalutzim. This is what they were called at that time. We had had people like them as guests in my home for Sabbath and Jewish holidays. So now we were waiting for them. They were hiding in Rold Skov[7] and were being picked up and had to arrive soon, as the ship had to sail immediately as the Germans had been onboard to check the papers. Time went by and the children and I were hiding behind a wooden wall in the ship boy’s cabin. As the 2 Jews arrived to join us in the darkness, I was grateful to discover that Vivian’s hood was not left there on the table in the cabin. It could have exposed us all had I not seen and removed it.

The young Jews were very upset. They said a taxi had come with full lights and full speed towards them just as they had started approaching the agreed meeting spot. They automatically thought it was the Germans and started running. This is why they arrived so late to the pier. We barricaded our hideout with a wooden cover, and only a few seconds later we started hearing German voices outside.
Tommy suddenly woke up from his daze because of the noise from all that was happening. He was just about to cough, but I put my handkerchief around his mouth and whispered to him that he could absolutely not make a single sound. If he had coughed, it would have given us away to the Germans. And imagine, this little boy 3 years old somehow understood the danger of the situation and kept quiet as a mouse.

I could hear the captain’s wife starting to get nervous. She was offering cigarettes and apples to the Germans and I remember thinking that she really needs to be quiet and act normally. Those are moments I shall never forget.[8]

Finally the Germans left the ship and we were all able to crawl out from our hideout. My children and I went to the captain’s cabin because the ship’s boy had scabies. We got a mattress so that we could sleep on the floor. The date was still October 14th 1943.

The Germans had captured many of the Jewish residents in Copenhagen in the beginning of October, precisely the Jewish New Year. My doctor in Aalborg had communicated this to the head of the religious society and he had then advised all Jews in Aalborg to seek safety. None of us in Aalborg really knew much of what was going on.

There was a heavy storm that night as we sailed out. I remember we had a wind force of 12 second meters. So the captain decided to stay for the night at Hals Barre[9] and hoped for improvement in the weather. However while staying there waiting for better weather, the captains of all the ships made visits to each other’s ships to play cards. And “my” captain had to be quick and be the first visitor instead of getting any visitors. He was going to Korsør, with his wood load and the shipper and trader did not know what he was doing[10] and as it was a good business contact he had, he couldn’t risk anything by being careless.

My children were still sleeping so there was a moment’s peace where I had the opportunity to speak with the captain’s wife. She was a full-sized lady in her mid-forties. In the meantime, the storm was worsening, getting the force of a hurricane. That was not an easy night.

As the dawn approached, the captain decided to start the trip. There was no other choice; he had to continue if he was to arrive on agreed time at Korsør. It was a horrible trip. The children and I were incredibly seasick as was even the captain’s wife. We got sick, one after another. The children were amazing. They managed to throw up in the washing container, dry their mouths in the diaper and then go back to sleep. The captain’s wife and I had each a bucket to throw up in. She kept telling me to eat biscuits and apples because it was easier to throw up than gall. The whole day went by like that.

By evening, Vivian was feeling better and was screaming for food. Neither the captain’s wife nor I were able to get up at all, so when the captain had been replaced at the wheel, he went to heat some potatoes and gravy for Vivian. The gravy was from a beef stew, and just from the smell of it, I started throwing up again. The captain said these were some poor ladies he had onboard. I now tried to straighten up a bit. I put Vivian between my legs and told her to open her mouth. I closed my eyes and she managed to grab the food herself. She ate it all with great appetite while once in a while I had to throw up to the side. Tommy was weak and was sleeping.

It continued like this the whole next day. We had been at sea for 2 days. Only now I saw our fellow travellers, the German Jews again. The oldest was 24 years and had studied law in Germany. The other had studied at the music conservatory to become a pianist. This was the 2nd time in their young lives they had to flee and I was very concerned for them.

I had handed over an envelope with money to the captain before leaving harbour. The German Jews however, did not want to hand over their money before they knew they had arrived safely. The oldest of them carried a gun in his belt in the event anything bad should happen. The deal with the captain was that he should visit my mother-in-law in Hellerup[11] before going to Korsør with the wood. In Korsør he would get a new shipment to sail to Nørresundby. Because of all this he was running out of time. Therefore we went into the rowing boat with the ship’s boy. Also the captain did not want to risk getting closer[12], so he stayed outside Swedish sea territory. He had headed in the direction of Kulben, but as it turned out, we were near Varberg[13]. That’s how strong the wind and the waves had been. I didn’t know the name of the boat nor how fast it sailed, but I think it was a coaster. It was fully loaded and laid low in the water.

So the ship’s boy was now in charge of the boat and was rowing to the shore. And as soon as we entered the harbour with the children around our necks while carrying the luggage, he sailed back quickly to the ship. As we entered firm ground, we had to climb a steep slope covered in wet stones. I almost did not believe my eyes as on the other side we saw a boy about 14 years old with a donkey pulling a small cart. We yelled to him to come our way and asked him where he was going. “To the sanatorium” he said. We put our luggage and the children on the carrier and asked him to take us there.

It was quite a sensation for the people of Varberg to witness our arrival. This little village had not had any Danish fugitives before. One year prior, a Norwegian fugitive had been there.

They called for the police and we were taken to the local police station. In good conscience I could tell them that I didn’t know the name of the boat, nor the organisation that it sailed for. When they had finished asking me questions, they put me in detention to give me a room to sleep. I was still very weak from the boat trip and before falling asleep. I just managed to see them bringing in a big case of bananas, chocolate and toys for the children, taking good care of them. After sleeping some hours, they brought in food. It was beef stew with potatoes and hot gravy. Usually I love it, but the smell now was just too much.

Then they took us to Tübsand Strand Hotel. There was a steel picked fence all around the area and that made me uneasy. I arrived as a luxury fugitive – nr. 189 at that place. I brought 2 suitcases filled with wet children’s clothes. I asked for a piece of string and hung up the clothes all over the place, from the window to the door to dry them. It was wet from being carried through the ocean during our dramatic arrival. I felt bad to have so much clothes so I started handing out diapers and clothes as it dried. Everyone else came empty handed, apart from a toothbrush and a toilet bag [.…]

[1] Her husband and the children’s father – my grandfather.
[2] Max worked with the Danish police force in Aalborg, in northern Jutland of Denmark.
[3] Vivian and Tommy were my Grandmother’s only two children. At this time Vivian was 1½ years and Tommy 3 years old. Vivian is my mother.
[4] This debate is still going on all over Europe.
[5] The biggest fjord in Denmark located in Northern Jutland.
[6] A Danish harbor town on Sealand.
[7] Denmark’s biggest forest.
[8] My grandmother had also told us that she had been handed a gun to bring to the hiding place on the ship. She had given it serious thought what she would do if the Germans had found them, and she felt that the faith of being caught and send to Germany with to small children was a faith worse than death. That was why she had accepted the gun. I don’t know why she didn’t include that part in her written memoir.
[9] A sand barrier by the eastern entry point to the Limfjord.
[10] Here my Grandmother is referring to the captain taking fugitives onboard.
[11] A small suburb to Copenhagen.
[12] To the Swedish coast
[13] A town in the far south of Sweden